The Pretender
by Ava Chanel
Summary: *ON HIATUS* In order to frighten her granddaughter out of misconduct, Mrs. Doyle hires a mysterious Indian man to play as her new guardian. But Kartik has other things on his mind when it comes to the scandalous Gemma Doyle...slightly AU
1. Premonition

**The Pretender**

**A/N: **_It's a slightly AU story regarding plot but I've tried my hardest to keep it in the same time period and of course, keeping the characters in character. Except perhaps Kartik may come off as more moody than usual. Anyways, the pairings will be easy to figure out once you start reading. There will be many pairings of course! I'm fairly open minded. Well, enjoy chapter one! _

_Song: _Maure  
_Artist: _Arcana  
_"I believe in dreams..."~_Kartik, TSFT

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**1888, India**

**Premonition**

The humid weather in India was as fervent and intense as ever. The warm moisture clung to the air in sickening waves, foreshadowing a ravenous storm to come. The streets in the poor district of Bombay were mainly empty this late in the evening and with the threat of a storm looming ahead, all the little children were inside, safe from everything. Only a little Indian boy, no older than the tender age of ten, remained perched on one of the small clay steps leading to his hut. A wooden stick was gripped in his small, dirty hand and he poked and prodded at the ground with it, making shapes and figures in the light brown dirt. He softly hummed a tune to himself despite the sweat breaking out onto his browned skin from the leering gaze of the piercing sun. Even when a shadow was hovering over him, creating a shade, he continued with his work.

"What are you drawing, little one?"

The voice was deep, the kind that indicated a recent change; manly but still soft enough to be familiar. The boy smiled lightly, never stopping with his ministrations.

"It is a drawing of you beating up the kids at school for me. You are a soldier high in the ranks and they all fear you. They'll never hurt me again."

His hand never ceased its movements and his smile never seemed to fade; it only grew wider and more confident. The man behind him moved and took a seat next to the younger boy, a sheepish grin gracing those same pouty lips.

He then shyly asked, "Do you...believe in your older brother that much, Kartik?"

The boy finally stopped drawing and moved his gaze to his brother's, the same brown eyes peering into his own. Kartik then grinned at his brother, revealing empty places where teeth were to be growing.

"Of course I do, Amar!" Kartik said confidently, "You will become the hero that our people dream of, just like mother and father say! And when you do, all those bullies will never touch me again. One day, I'll become as strong as you and then I'll show them myself!"

The immature glee that flared in Kartik as he spoke of this fuelled a determination in Amar, resulting in a sparkle in his dark eyes. He said nothing of it though and Kartik went back to his drawing, still humming a happy tune as he did so.

"A hero huh?" Amar whispered low enough for only himself to hear. Brushing it off, he then turned his attention back to Kartik and said, "Kartik, there is a storm brewing. Perhaps it is best if you wait for father inside the house."

Noticing the disappointment in his younger brother's face, he tried to smile to seem comforting and still be eligible for the good brother award. Kartik's face just continued to fall.

"But Amar! Father promised to bring home one of those exotic fruits for me! I want to see it first!" Kartik shouted with something like fear welling up in his large brown eyes.

"Now Kartik, if I allow you to stay outside in the rain and were you to get sick, mother will have my hide. So come inside and save me the pain, will you?" Amar chided.

There was a moment of silence that passed over the two brothers. Dark clouds finally began to block the sun and cover the sky in a blanket of fury; the downpour was going to begin any time now. It was clear to Amar that Kartik was weighing his options; he could defy him and face the consequences or he could obey. With a sigh of defeat, Kartik decided to follow his brother towards the entrance of the hut. However, before he entered the house completely, Kartik paused and looked up at the menacing sky, his face full of wonder.

"I hope father doesn't get caught in the rain."

Amar chuckled from inside, "You know how much father enjoys the rain. We had to drag him inside last year during the monsoon season."

As Amar disappeared somewhere in the hut, Kartik remained at the doorstep with large brown eyes curiously examining the sky that was now expelling tiny droplets of water.

"Kartik! Get inside now! You'll be letting all the rain into the house. Come now, father will be home soon."

Kartik's mother emerged from the kitchen and grabbed a hold of Kartik's skinny and fragile arm, dragging him inside and closing the doors so that he no longer could see that endless sky. She then vanished into the kitchen, taking notice of nothing around her. Food came first. The swift smell of old fashioned Indian cuisine flowed deep into Kartik's nostrils and he suddenly felt his mouth salivate and his stomach growl in hunger. He wandered into the kitchen after his mother, watching her busily move around with her colourful sari dancing about her as she did so. Her golden bangles shimmered underneath the dim candlelights and clanged with each hand gesture made. The noise brought back fond memories and a sense of comfort to Kartik. However, it did nothing to relieve his angry stomach.

"Mother, is the food ready yet?"

Kartik's mother did not turn her attention to her son but continued to stir the stew she was boiling. She simply wiped at her damp forehead with the back of her hand and let out a tired sigh.

"Not yet. In a few more minutes. Why don't you go take a nap until father gets home? Then we shall wake you and we can eat together."

"Okay..."

Kartik walked towards the bedroom he shared with Amar, yawning along the way. Although he didn't feel tired, he was obliged to be obedient; never the defiant one. Whatever the elder said had to be and that was a fact of life in his culture. Amar was sitting on the bottom bunk, busy writing something in his journal with the aid of a small candle. When Kartik entered, he looked up immediately and smiled.

"Ready for your nap, little one?"

He nodded slowly, rubbing at his eyes in order to convince himself and Amar that he was indeed sleepy. The thunder roared outside and the lightning crackled, rupturing the sky for a brief instant. The sound made both Amar and Kartik want to jump out of their skin. Amar's expression changed, but only for a split second; he then chuckled heartily in that rich voice that had only recently changed.

"Come now, the rain is nothing to fear."

Shaking it off, Kartik climbed up to the top bunk, cuddling into his thin quilt blanket that his grandmother had sewn together before she had passed. Amar went back to his writing, the delicate noise of his quill scratching at the paper and the tapping of the raindrops lulling Kartik into a deep, yet uncomfortable sleep.

The dream was abrupt and so real. It was accompanied with an urgency and pain. Kartik was running in the rain, soaked from head to toe. Water dripped down his nose and lashes, obscuring his vision. One thing he could understand was that he was in his village, running past all the familiar houses and huts. From the direction he was taking, he came to understand where he was headed; the marketplace. It seemed like forever that he was dashing past corner after corner. Finally, he had reached his destination after a final turn. He slowed down, breathing hard with the rain soaking him to the bone.

The bazaar was usually empty during bad weather because the merchants did not want their goods to become damaged or stolen. However, Kartik was a bit surprised to make out a few figures circled around something on the floor. He could tell that two of the men in uniform were British soldiers. The others were of his own kind; a few Indian merchants who had been unfortunate enough to be caught in the storm. As Kartik found himself being drawn to the scene, he could make out a ball of bright colour against the dark brown mud from the corner of his eye. He ignored it; he had other motives at the moment. Besides, the pull was too strong, he couldn't ignore it even if he wanted to.

He winded up almost breaking into a run with how powerful the force was; the anticipation building up inside him was venomous and greedy. When he was close enough, he managed to understand the Hindi being spoken by the merchants as well as the British soldier's harsh accented English.

"Such a shame..."

"How could this have happened?"

"A lucky catch."

"I still don't understand...Who would want to steal it?"

Kartik walked through them, his vision still blurred, but their voices only spurred him on. When he was close enough, through the blur of his vision, he made out a familiar figure of an Indian man lying on his back; a male because of the clothing, an Indian because of the burnt sienna colour of his skin. The urgency was back and a pang of pain attacked Kartik's heart as reality fought with denial inside of him.

The man's mouth was open, his dark brown eyes staring at a dark sky and long lashes soaked with the rain water. His hands lay motionless and out stretched, being buried by the mud. A pool of crimson life mixed with water and mud, pooling around his body in a dirty mess. There were little holes in his once white top. It was now drenched a faint, dizzying red and little holes where blood escaped marred it's stitching. The obvious hit Kartik so hard, it was worse than a direct slap to the face. All of a sudden his blurred vision was clear. He could make out the familiar face shape.

Those trademark full lips that spoiled him with smiles; the same long lashes that coated the edges of his own eyelids. Even his arms became a vague haunting memory where Kartik recalled the way they felt when they enveloped him in hugs. They now lay motionless, buried away. The chest that heaved and radiated warmth when he was cold didn't move at all but simply oozed out that metallic tasting red liquid. Kartik felt the tears well up in his eyes. A soft whisper of a voice blew across him and his surroundings, enveloping him in a familiar heat he was to never feel again.

"Kartik..." It was an echo of a fraternal voice, growing more distant with each passing moment until it was far behind him, gone forever.

Kartik opened his mouth and let out a blood curdling scream, loud enough for all the villagers to hear. Tears stained his cheeks and the screaming did not cease until the bedroom door opened and candlelight brought his bedroom back into focus. Amar was by Kartik's side in a matter of seconds with their mother following closely behind. Both wore expressions of worry and shock.

"Kartik, what is it?!"

Kartik did not speak; he only managed to whimper in his attempt to stop both the wailing and the tears. Amar searched his face with concerned eyes but when Kartik did not yield and only wiped at his wet face, he decided to pick him up and carry him to the living room. His mother gently pulled a few dark curls off of his sweaty face. The gesture was so comforting that it made Kartik yearn for more. He was then reminded of the nightmare and felt a strong longing for the same affection from his father. Through watery eyes, he looked at his mother and saw the strained expression of pure worry and concern. He did his best to fight off the urge to cry, for her sake.

Amar sat down on the matted floor and cradled Kartik in his arms who gladly tucked himself away into his brother's shirt.

"There there, it was only a nightmare. You will forget it in a matter of time."

Kartik's sniffling slowed down. A strange hope flourished in him; Amar was right. Father would be home soon from the market. Perhaps he was only caught in the rain, enjoying it like he always did. He'd come back when it cleared, drenched and a smile spread across his lips. Mother would chide him and then they'd all have a laugh about the nightmare over dinner. But it had felt all so real. Kartik felt as if he himself had actually been there; he had witnessed his father's blood spilled. He willed the thoughts away as quickly as they came. Then, as if on cue, there was a loud knock on the door. Kartik's stomach flipped and he could hardly contain himself when Amar made his way towards the entrance.

Kartik stood up, his tears a long lost memory. A furious anticipation consumed him; how he longed for his dream to be proved wrong. How he longed to see that familiar face not as it had been in the nightmare. Unfortunately, the face that greeted them at the door was not the one they were anticipating. Kartik's face fell. That hope that had risen inside him crashed as hard as it had come. Kartik's mother was behind Amar in an instant and Kartik could no longer make out the face at the doorway. All he knew was that it was not his father and this worried him.

"What? Where is my father?! What has happened?!"

"...I'm so sorry, Amar. We brought the body to the temple where they promised to clean him and make him presentable. We couldn't just leave him in the middle of the street and we thought it would be too much for you to bear if we brought him here."

Kartik's blood thumped loudly inside his ears; bile rose to his mouth. He felt sick. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't possible. It had all been a dream...hadn't it? Amar said nothing. Their mother collapsed to the floor, face covered by her hands as she cried into them.

"Your father was truly a good man. If there is anything you need, anything at all...Do not hesitate to ask. After all, he did us many favours."

"Thank you."

The door closed shut, leaving the rain to tap hard against the wood, begging for entrance. Kartik's mother remained on the floor, her traditional gown and sari sprawled all about her, food long forgotten. Her sobs came harder and she tried hard to mask her tears from Kartik's deep eyes.

Amar turned his attention back to the remnants of his family, his expression indicating the fight he was putting up with tears that threatened to spill. He walked over to his mother and crouched down beside her. Protectively, he draped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her head into his chest where she cried harder. He stared at the floor, eyes filling with the moisture that would destroy his pride.

Kartik crawled towards them, tugging at his mother's sari when he felt as if he was too weak to reach out for the comfort. Amar extended the other arm to him, lip quivering as he nodded his head to signal that it was okay to come closer.

"Come here, little one."

Kartik wanted to cry, he wanted to rub his face against the warm chest of his older brother. He wanted to feel his hand delicately patting his back as he wailed into the night. But he didn't. Instead he sat next to his mother, arm resting on her back where he performed the same comfort he desperately sought.

"What happens now, brother?"

Amar, startled by the abruptness in Kartik's voice, stared in silence at him with stunned dark eyes, "Kartik, now is not the time."

Kartik was defiant, "How will we get money? You still haven't finished your training as a soldier."

Amar glared hard at the little boy. He seethed, "Kartik, our father has just passed! We can think on this after the cremation!"

Kartik said nothing; he looked up through blurry eyes. The way Amar had said it was a confirmation; a cold hard fact that they now had to live with-or without.

"I will work."

Amar's voice was tough even as he continued to console his mother. Kartik looked straight at his brother with shock registering on his face. His dreams of painless days at school vanished, another piece of hope dissipating from inside him.

"I will ask Vikram for a job at the market. Perhaps I can help with the dirty job. I will figure something out."

"But what of your training?"

"Isn't it obvious that I can no longer do that?! Father is gone! I am now the protector of this family! I must feed you now! A life of a soldier will get me nowhere! So just forget it!"

There was anger in Amar's voice but the sadness masked beneath it hurt more.

There was no talking for the rest of the night. No one uttered a word. This time Kartik found it impossible to sleep with his mother's constant sobbing echoing into his room. It was like a constant stab that awakened him each time his eyelids dared to droop. Just like that, everything had changed.

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**A/N: **_There it is! Feedback is always welcome so do leave your thoughts and opinions. I'll try my best to come out with chapter two A.S.A.P. This one goes out to all those fans who were a little miffed about the ending Libba (as wonderful as she is) left us with. Thanks for reading. _


	2. Jade

**The Pretender**

**A/N: **_Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate the encouragement! I also really need it at times. Please keep reading and enjoy. As promised, chapter two :) My muse is Michael Steger...He'd make such a beautiful Kartik :)_

_Song: _Save Me  
_Artist: _Shinedown

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**Jade**

**1893, India**

A splatter of blood tinged the burnt dirt particles on the ground. It pooled and made a small pathway through tiny rocks and obstacles until it was completely blocked. Following the trail of thick red liquid back to its source would lead to a body of a young male, one not quite a child but far from a matured man. He lay on the dirt floor, sprawled on his stomach, face buried into the ground. His thick dark curls were matted with bits and pieces of sand and filth. The browned skin of his exposed arms and legs were scathed and bleeding. The dirt dried pale against his skin tone. A wooden cricket bat fell on the ground beside his head, marked with the same blood.

"That should teach you. Next time, stay out of our way!"

"How disgusting! I got his blood on my father's cricket bat! Get it off!"

"Just rub it on his clothes, it's all he's good for anyways."

Weakened fingers grasped at the dirt clutched beneath the nail tips. A swift kick to the stomach was initiated. A groan of pain followed and then laughter as the wooden stick wiped itself clean against torn cloth. Then chatter dissipated into the distance but the boy remained motionless for quite some time, the sun scorching his entire back. An image of a man in a similar position, blood pooling around him in a massive puddle came to the boy's mind. Kartik took every inch of strength left in him and attempted to stand on his knees, the tender flesh scraping against hard rocks and smearing more blood against the golden brown dirt. His palms bled and the flesh that was intact was imprinted by the sharp pebbles that had lain underneath. His head spun, his entire body ached. The intense throbbing pulsed inside his temple. His eyesight was unsteady and he almost tripped when he got to his feet.

With a massive struggle, Kartik wobbled and stumbled all the way home, attempting to lick his wounds along the way. Upon entering the house and kicking off his sandals, a waft of intense curry and spice enveloped him.

"Kartik, is that you?" Kartik's mother's voice floated from the kitchen, "Do you realize how late you are? Amar was so worried; he went out to look for you!"

There went all hope for hiding inside his shared bedroom. Just as Kartik was about to tiptoe past the kitchen with a dismissive statement, his mother appeared before him. Her expression went from grim to mortified to shock all in a matter of seconds. Her golden bangles echoed as they clang when she brought her hands up to her mouth. Kartik made no eye contact; he found the floor much more interesting all of a sudden.

"Kartik! What on earth happened to you?!"

Her eyes widened in horror as she came to a realization, "Oh my! You got into another fight didn't you?! Was it Khan's son again? I will have a word with his mother tomorrow, I swear it!"

"Mother! Please! I just tripped, okay?"

There was a silence and Kartik felt a heat rush to his face from the effect of his lie; a mother's intuition is never wrong.

"Oh and I suppose your head hit a large boulder when you tripped? And the bruises are from the beatings I no longer give you?"

He should have known better than to have attempted a lie. His mother was just too good sometimes.

"Can I just be left alone?" His voice was hardly an audible whisper at this point, his naked feet shuffling about.

"You will not step a foot into your room, dragging that mess with you! Go take a bath before anything, understood?"

Kartik sighed but his mother didn't waiver.

"Fine!"

His mother stood watching him, dark eyes piercing into his burned back. He could feel them until he reached the bath, stronger than the Indian sun during midday. Closing the door, he stripped down to nothing and examined all the cuts and bruises that coated his body. His head was still throbbing and when he placed a hand on the direct source of pain, his fingers came away drenched in a thick crimson fluid.

He cleaned the cuts first because experience had taught him to do so. The bruises would hurt and turn most of his skin purple but he was accustomed to that kind of pain. It was the head injury that he wasn't used to. He scrubbed the blood out of his hair with soap and watched with interest as the clear water came to life with the vibrant red. His cuts stung; the smaller ones more so than the large ones. His bruises led him to groan in pain when he washed away at them. Yet, a bath without pain would be much more abnormal than one with.

He didn't understand why he had to take on those boys; ever since his father's death, he had grown to be rather territorial. If he took it without a fight, he'd be less cut up, like he used to. But now he came home battered and weakened. He would never tell her but it was because of his mother that the fight had gotten so severe this time. She had talked it out with one of the kid's parents and the bastard child decided to retaliate viciously. Of course, he didn't just fall back and let them kick him; he punched and swung his arms aimlessly for as long as his body would allow him to.

A knock on the door interrupted Kartik's flashbacks, "Kartik? You've been in there for a while now. Amar wants to talk to you so hurry it up."

His mother was always so comforting. He groaned and stood up, wobbling a little as he did so; the bleeding had stopped but the pain was still there. When he entered the living room, surely enough, Amar was seated with a hot cup of tea placed in front of him. Kartik sighed and let his presence be known. Amar instantly turned around and faced him. He was a man now and it had become evident in his strong facial features and light dusting of facial hair. It didn't come off as a surprise that Kartik's brother had a reputation for being a lady's man; everyone had seen it coming.

"Well don't you look absolutely beautiful, little one?" Amar smiled sheepishly, playing out that handsome charm he had come to possess.

Kartik snorted, "Do not chastise me, brother. And I am no longer a little one so please refrain from calling me that."

Amar let out a hearty chuckle, all boyish innocence erased from his voice. Kartik quirked up a dark eyebrow in frustration; five years had passed and yet his brother was still much like a child.

"I see you got into another fight. What about this time?"

Kartik didn't respond, no eye contact. He sat still, glaring at the china cup as if willing it to spontaneously combust from his withheld rage.

"It doesn't matter."

"It clearly does. Your lip is bleeding."

Kartik wiped at his mouth furiously with the sleeve of his cotton shirt, still not looking at his brother and managing to stain his clothing already. Amar stared in silence at Kartik, finally allowing a sigh to escape his lips.

"Kartik, when will you learn to stop fighting?"

"The same time I learn to stop losing."

Yet another long silence. Amar sipped his tea and placed it back onto the table.

"I've not changed my mind about your request. You can pick as many fights as you like, Kartik. Keep coming home more beaten up than ever. I will not do it."

Kartik slammed his fist against the table, looking up with venomous dark eyes at Amar. The tea cup rattled.

"You don't even understand! Whether I pick the fights or not, they do not stop! I'm sick of letting them win!"

Amar stared sternly at Kartik and Kartik stared right back. Tension filled the room but the brothers warred with each other's gazes like nothing else mattered but pride. It was their mother that disturbed the deranged silence.

"I don't mean to interrupt your brotherly bonding time but I believe there is quite a ruckus going on outside. It seems to be concerning the English."

Both Amar and Kartik were quick to their feet, similar dark eyes widened in the same shock and worry. For now, their conversation would be put on hold but Kartik would be sure it wasn't dropped completely. That could be dealt with in time but the English were something that needed to be dealt with promptly.

Both brothers rushed to the door, now more alert to their surroundings. They almost tripped their mother as they did so and left her cursing after them. As they exited the house and came in instant contact with the blazing sun, Kartik looked on at his surroundings until he noted a large group of people circled around some form of commotion. Whatever was going on in the middle of it was the source of the yelping and the laughter. Kartik's expression hardened and he was quick to the scene as was Amar.

Both knew what was going on; the soldiers had grown bored and decided to torment an Indian simply because they could. A familiar rage erupted inside of Kartik as he came to the realization. It showed in his urgent stride and grim expression. Amar was quick to follow him but with a little more apprehensiveness. Kartik pushed past enough people until he could see and hear what was going on a little bit better.

"That should teach you, dirty little thief! Let's see you try stealin' again with those broken legs!"

The elderly Indian man did not understand a word of English but was on the floor crying out in Kartik's mother tongue. Tears of pain coated his wrinkled face and his once white clothing was soiled by dirt and slum filth. His legs lay like a useless heap underneath him and no one seemed eager to help him. Kartik knew why; there were two English soldiers, both donning their majestic swords that were tainted with the blood of others. One was circling the man on the floor while the other stood idly, arms crossed and observing with a cynical amusement in his eyes.

As the sun glared down onto its people, a bright shine bounced off of something in the still soldier's pocket. That's when the idea hit him; Kartik was no longer just going to stand by and watch his people get slaughtered. He had an idea and although it was rash, stood a small chance of even working and required more skill than he possessed, he figured it was better than doing nothing at all. He slowly made his way towards a currently abandoned vendor stall and, when no one was looking, snatched a rather ugly dark brown sari from its perch. He wrapped it skilfully around his head so that only his eyes were exposed. When he walked back into the crowd, even Amar did not recognize him. Although he could tell from his brother's searching eyes that he was looking for him.

Kartik then purposefully bumped into a tall Indian man that stood near the still soldier and was glad that he had gotten so agitated, he gave him a hard shove right back. Kartik went face first into the soldier's chest. There was so much force exerted that both Kartik and the soldier had to struggle to keep on their feet. As the soldier regained his balance and looked on viciously at Kartik, everyone else's piercing gaze was drawn to him as well. Angry and trying to show his manpower, the soldier shoved Kartik so hard that he went down to the floor this time, scraping his already injured hands. It took every bit of will power for him to refrain from screaming.

"Watch where you're goin' next time or it'll be you with broken legs, understood?! I don't take pity on little buggers like you!"

Kartik bowed apologetically and scurried off out of the crowd. He had thought that Amar would have noticed him but as he walked on by, his brother's eyes continued to scan the sea of black heads. His body was still throbbing in pain but it didn't matter because of the shiny, golden object in his hands. He had managed to complete step one; to steal it. Now he had to accomplish the harder part of his plan; running.

"My pocket watch! It's gone! That little brat stole it!"

"Don't just stand there; go get him!"

There were disturbances among the crowd as the soldiers shoved past them, causing yelps to escape from the children and women. Kartik didn't dare look back; instead he continued to run even when his legs began to beg him to stop. He made a sharp turn into a dirty and deserted alleyway; it was a shortcut to the marketplace. He could hear the soldiers' quick pace and the clanging of their swords against their belts as they ran. They were gaining on him.

"He went through that alley! After him!"

Kartik's legs began to feel like jelly. He usually had more endurance but his body was already weakened for the day and was betraying him to fatigue quickly. Just as he was exiting the alley and smelling the different scents of the busy marketplace, a soldier tackled him and they both went skidding across the hard ground. The soldier was spared the burning sensation but only because he was on Kartik's back. Unfortunately, it hurt Kartik twice as worse as it would have if the soldier wasn't on his back. His entire front body tingled with pain as the friction tore at his flimsy shirt. It also didn't help that his head went right into a wooden board of a stall, causing everything around him to become nothing but a blur.

"Got you, you little brat!"

He couldn't make out anything; his vision blurred, his head spun and his body ached with an overwhelming pain. He was grabbed by the collar by the panting soldier. When Kartik came face to face with the soldier, he could swear that the man had five faces...no, six. Was it a monster with 6 pairs of leering dark eyes? Kartik moaned as he let his eyelids fall closed. This was a nightmare.

He was thrown harshly into the wooden stall, his body weight breaking it and causing bits of splintered wood to stab at his already wounded body. A stronger groan of pain escaped his dry and chapped lips. The sari came off of him, snatched by the soldier. He could hear muffled gasps as he was sure a crowd was now developing around the fiasco. Then came the laughter from the English soldiers as they circled him like lions would circle their prey.

Kartik could feel himself losing consciousness and he was tempted to just slip away into it so whatever pain was to come could be ignored for the time being. The image of his father lying on the same ground in the same marketplace, crying out his son's name with his final dying breath flashed in Kartik's mind like a pulse. He couldn't fall away, not yet. Not when he was still breathing.

Strong hands roughly pried open his grip on the pocket watch.

"I'll be takin' this back!"

Kartik tried to fight it but he couldn't, his body failing him ever so quickly.

"So...thought you could trick us, did you?"

A sharp kick to his abdomen. Kartik groaned, feeling bile rise up to his mouth.

"Think we're that stupid, huh?!"

A harder kick to his stomach. Kartik rolled over from the pain, throwing up whatever little food he had ingested throughout the day.

He coughed as he nearly choked on the vomit. The sun seemed hotter today, burning him even stronger.

"Thought you were brave?! You just got that man a death sentence!"

A foot placed itself on his chest, pressing against the bruises and burns. Kartik whimpered.

"We'll teach you not to mess with us, boy!"

All senses were failing Kartik; he could only hear and feel. He could do without the feeling part. But what he heard was strange. Hurried footsteps, the crowd muttering and whispering in Hindi. Feet shuffling; the crowd moving around, making room for...what? He felt the soldier's back off, their shadows no longer providing a false safety from the harsh sunlight.

"Now, now, what in the heavens is going on here?!"

An Englishman with a deep British accent. His voice was charismatic, filled with concern and other emotions. It reminded Kartik so much of his father.

"Sir, we caught this little fool stealin' from us red handed!"

"Did it right in front of a crowd too, sir!"

Silence followed as the man inspected Kartik. He could hear the crunching of the pebbles underneath the man's expensive boots inch closer.

"Hmmm...Well, I'll be! He hardly seems any older than my precious Gemma!"

Whispers again amongst the crowd, the soldiers shuffling their feet in agitation.

"Sir! You can hardly even compare such filth to your young miss! He is a bloody thief!"

The man clicked his tongue, "Now, now. Mind your language in front of ladies, young fellows."

"I do not mind, father."

A female voice, soft but tainted with that English accent. Kartik tried to move but a single muscle contraction caused an endless wave of pain.

The footsteps retreated and moved away.

"Now Gemma, let's not be rash. You just stay out of it, pet."

A fatherly tone; one with warning but with love and care as well.

"So, did you young gentlemen get back what was stolen from you?"

The man's voice took on a harsher tone now, serious and questioning.

"Y-yes sir, but that's not the-"

"Uhp! That's all I wanted to hear. If you have gotten back what he stole then there is no need for further punishment. You've already bruised and beaten the young boy to oblivion! I believe if you walk away, I won't have to report either of you for being so beastly towards a child!"

The soldiers grunted in disapproval but their footsteps retreated from the scene nonetheless.

"Now, someone should really take care of this boy and bring him home to his worried parents."

There was a strange shock as the Englishman broke out into a heavily accented Hindi, asking if anyone knew Kartik's family or where he lived.

"He is my brother; I shall take him home."

Kartik felt his heart leap at his brother's voice, accented English making his presence all the more powerful amongst the crowd.

"Well then, we'll leave you to it, young sir."

Kartik felt a comforting hand rest on his shoulder and then a small whisper, "You fool, what have you done?!"

With a painful effort, Kartik opened his eyes, mustering all his remaining strength as he did so. He was first met with his brother's dark, searching orbs and the dark strand of hair that fell into his face persistently. Then, as if drawn to something, he looked amongst the crowd, searching for the fatherly Englishman. He spotted someone walking away, hair the colour of coffee beans with a few greys in it, hinting at age. As he looked away and was ready to slip into unconsciousness, he felt eyes watching him.

A quick glance and he spotted her for she was so obviously foreign and so obviously misfit. Her titian hair was in long loose curls and her skin was the colour of porcelain, the sun only making its mark on her flesh as tiny speckled dots of colour. But it was her eyes that caught Kartik's attention; jade green eyes staring at him fixedly either with hate or with curiosity, he could not tell.

"Gemma, come along will you?"

"Coming father!"

Just like that, she turned her back and followed after the man. Kartik dropped in Amar's arms, much too weak to fight off the fatigue any more. His mind was void and empty but all he could see were those haunting green eyes, watching him with that peculiar gaze.

* * *

**A/N: **_Chapter two for you! I made it nice and long so please enjoy! Feedback and comments of any kind are welcomed and appreciated! Thanks for reading :)_


	3. Sides

**The Pretender**

**A/N: **_Thank you very much for the reviews! You guys really motivate me with this story. It's nice to see you all enjoying it. Anyways, here's chapter three. Enjoy :) _

_Song: _Darkness Eyes_  
Artist: _DBSK

* * *

**Sides**

**1896, India**

Time was going nowhere fast enough, it seemed. Gemma Doyle twirled a perfect crimson strand of hair around her finger, coiling it into a perfect curl. She chewed nervously at her bottom lip, causing it to swell in irritation. Her dress would never be wrinkle free and her corset never quite right. It didn't matter though; what was important was that her eyes never dared to look in front of her. Her greatest fear was sitting right across from her; a beast in its most livid form.

The most scrutinizing eyes were examining her at that very moment for she could feel them on her like the hot sun on her back. She was sweating and she was sure her face was flushed as red as her hair. She had gotten away with many things before but this...this, her grandmother would never forgive her for.

"Do you know the amount of damage you have caused, Gemma? Have you the slightest clue at all? Even a guess will do."

Green eyes leered at her, thin lips pursed in clear agitation and will power. Gemma was merely stunned that her grandmother was taking this slowly. She was almost sure the screaming antics would have started by now. Next time, she would never listen to Felicity and her insane ideas for this was always where they brought her; in her grandmother's room, receiving a lecture.

"N-no..."

Her voice was hardly a whisper and her eyes never left her lap. She was afraid that by making eye contact, the beast would assume a challenge; a challenge she was not up for taking. As much as she resented the idea, she needed to win her grandmother's favour.

"Well, poor Mrs. Rice has fractured her hip, twisted her ankle and broken her arm while she was trying to keep up with you and your rather eccentric friends!"

Gemma was quick to her defence, "We didn't ask her to chase us! She just tagged along and we had no idea that she was even following us! We never would have done it on purpose!"

Gemma was pleading and she found it disgusting that she had to do so. However, her grandmother was unaffected; "I do not want to hear any more excuses, young lady! I've had them up to here! Every time you and those terrible girls find a way of almost murdering your chaperone, there has always been some petty excuse! After the seventh time, Gemma, it stops working!"

There was a murderous look about her grandmother's expression as she raised her voice. It seemed there was a lot she wanted to dish out at Gemma but was taking her time and using that limited patience she had acquired from a lady's school. Gemma just stared guiltily back but then moved her gaze to the table between her and the sophisticated woman when she found that she no longer could take those frightening jade green eyes.

Her grandmother sighed, "Gemma, you are tarnishing your name and your family's name. It is your father and brother who will suffer for your incredulous behaviour. Already there is talk about your rather promiscuous affair with that Middleton boy-"

"I am not having an affair with Simon!" Gemma cried out, anger, or a blush, colouring her pale cheeks.

"Oh, Simon is it? And tell me, when have you become so familiar with Mr. Middleton that you now freely use his first name?"

Her grandmother's eyes held a spark of amusement; she enjoyed having Gemma cornered for she knew that she had won this round. Gemma merely left her mouth open, searching desperately for some excuse or lie. She only wished she was as creative as Felicity in that department.

"I...I...it slipped."

She could mentally slap herself for such a pathetic excuse. An evil smile graced her grandmother's lips; damn her.

"Right. Moving on, if you continue with this type of behaviour, Gemma, you will force me to send you off to a lady's school in England-"

"NO!"

Gemma was on her feet, hands slapped against the wooden table in agitation. Her eyes widened in a familiar horror. Her grandmother only smirked.

"Then I trust you will behave yourself from here on out. The only problem now is to find you another chaperone," her grandmother chuckled, "You have quite a reputation. Hardly anyone wants to work for you. The fee I'm paying is painfully high."

Gemma sat back down in the chair, slinking down in defeat and crossing her arms in frustration. She hated the hold her grandmother had on her.

"You are dismissed."

With that, Gemma was quick to her feet, stomping out of the room in pure anger. She slammed the door hard behind her and scurried off to her bedroom to mope about the day's events. On her way, in a blind fury, she knocked into someone hard.

"Gemma! Would you please watch where you're going! What man would want his wife running about the house so carelessly?!"

Gemma stopped and glared at her brother. She was just about to let him have it until she took in his entire appearance. His fair hair was unruly and messy and his clothing seemed a tad bit out of place, as if they had been roughly removed and then quickly and poorly adjusted. As Gemma squinted at him in suspicion, Tom coughed rather nervously.

"If you would excuse me, I have some things to attend to..."

Gemma felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth; it seemed she wasn't the only scandalous one in the family. Her brother brushed past her before she could speak what was on her mind. She watched him go hastily, almost bumping into her unsuspecting father as he did so. Gemma's dad eyed Tom curiously but neither exchanged a word and Tom was off again to wherever it was he was needed. Gemma would bet a large sum of money that it was to some gentlemen's club and not one with much modesty, either.

Mr. Doyle turned his attention to the young lady in the hallway with frivolous red curls and a paled complexion. He smiled heartily at the sight of her.

"Pet, may we have a word, please? Your grandmamma insists that I give you a small little talk about the...events that took place today. If you please?"

Gemma sighed in frustration and annoyance; it was just like her grandmother to do this. It wasn't enough to hear it from her of how much of a black stain she was on the family. Now she had to hear it from her father as well. Grudgingly, she followed her father into his study room, taking a seat directly across from him. He was still smiling, even as he opened a drawer and pulled out his pipe. He lit it as he took a seat and took in a big puff of the smoke. Gemma almost choked.

"Now, pet. You do know that we had to pay dearly for Mrs. Rice's injuries, right?"

Gemma sighed and rolled her eyes, growing tired of the same repeated words and phrases.

"Yes, father. I am aware and I am deeply and heartily sorry. I shall visit Mrs. Rice and formally apologize for my crude and inexcusable behaviour. May I go now?"

Gemma fiddled with a loose string on the hem of her corset. When her father remained silent, she didn't move. The last thing she needed was her father against her as well. She looked up with agitated green eyes and sighed in exasperation.

"No. You cannot leave just yet. I need to speak to you about that...young Mr. Middleton boy you have been seeing."

"Father! I am not seeing Si-Mr. Middleton!"

Her father silenced her with a single and swift hand motion; palm up in a stop gesture. Gemma paused, getting more frustrated with each passing second. Why was it that no one wanted to hear her version of the story? Oh. Right. Because she was a female. That was why.

"Whatever it may be, I do not like those awful rumours about the two of you. I believe you either have to cut ties with that boy or..."

"For the love of God, we danced together. ONCE. That was all that happened between us!"

Her father looked at her sternly, a clear indicator that he was to be the one talking and she was to be obedient and quiet as he did so. Gemma growled in her throat and looked away, clutching the arms of the chair so hard, the white of her knuckles shone.

"Do not be difficult, Gemma! Let me finish. If you are truly fond of the boy then we shall invite the Middleton's over for dinner one day."

Gemma looked at her father, a bewildered expression overcoming her face. She worked extremely hard to mask the pure joy escalading inside of her; Simon Middleton was being cordially invited over to her house for dinner! That would quell all those silly rumours and they would finally be considered a true couple. No more heartless gossip. Her grandmother would shut her trap for good. The mere thought of it all made Gemma's mind haze over with excitement.

"Before you get too happy, there is a condition to all of this."

Gemma's smile became a frown so quickly; it was hard to even remember whether or not she knew how to smile in the first place.

Her father sighed with direct eye contact. "I am in the works of developing a good relationship with Mr. Middleton. Give me some time, and I may be able to work things out. However," Mr. Doyle paused in seriousness, "If, in between that time period, anything happens to your next two chaperones, I will do nothing. Am I understood?"

Gemma nodded ecstatically. She was being given two chances, there was no way she could mess both up. She practically leaped off her chair when she ran into her father's embrace, enveloping him in a tight hug.

"Thank you so much, father! You've no idea how much this means to me!"

Mr. Doyle patted Gemma's back fondly as he chuckled. A sudden knock on the door to the study interrupted the heartwarming father and daughter moment. Both turned their attention to the Indian guard standing outside the door. He looked embarrassed but was desperately hiding it. Gemma let go of her father instantly and pushed back a free strand of curly red hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry to intrude, sir. But I have some urgent news to inform you of. I believe I need to speak to you in private." The guard eyed Gemma as he said this, a key sign that she was to leave.

Gemma felt a little miffed at the obvious brush off she was receiving from a mere Indian soldier but said nothing of it; she just glared at him. Her father looked at her and smiled, "Pet, I'm sorry. But we must continue this conversation later."

She forced a smile and curtsied, "That's all right. I was going to take my bath now anyways."

With that said she walked out the door, brushing the Indian soldier roughly as she exited. She felt successful when he stumbled a little and looked at her with some form of hatred. When she heard the door of the study close, she dashed to the spare bedroom opposite it and closed the door behind her. She then hopped onto the bed and removed the painting sitting above the bed frame. The wall was thin there and she had once used it as a child to listen to her parents secrets. But that had been when her mother was still alive. Yet she had known it would still come in handy someday.

Besides, who did that man think he was, kicking her out like that? She would listen anyways, just to spite him. The voices were low but the room was quiet so everything came almost crystal clear.

"A thief you say?"

It was her father; she could almost visualise him stroking the facial hair on his chin as he contemplated everything.

"Yes, sir. The Indians are calling him a hero. For he steals from the rich and kills any of the Englishmen that get in his way. Others call him the assassin for hire because they say he seeks revenge for those unjustified."

"Hmmmm...."

Her father was pouring himself a drink for Gemma could hear the liquid smoothly splash into a glass.

"Sir, you must act quickly. It seems he is following a pattern; he has stolen already from those smaller families living in the rich district. He has also killed. The Indians are saying he will aim higher each and every time."

Her father said nothing and the soldier sighed heavily with worry.

"Sir, I fear your name may be on his list at some point. You must warn the others and prepare extra guards. We must catch him before he murders anymore of your people!"

A hearty laugh escaped her father's lips and it only grew with each passing second, then it stopped as he spoke, "You honestly think I'm going to believe that? Please, the district police will most likely find him before he even attempts entering my house. Besides, we are well secure already. And who is to say that the Indians are not making this up to scare us?"

"But sir-"

"No more, soldier. I've had enough of this joke. You are dismissed. If you do your job well enough, then perhaps these stories or myths will fizzle out even quicker."

The soldier sighed in defeat before retreating.

"Yes, sir. Good night."

When she heard the door close, Gemma replaced the painting and wandered over to the bathroom where a bath was prepared for her. She was practically laughing in her head; was that what the soldier didn't want her to hear? It was completely and unbelievably stupid. Even her father had taken it like a joke; it was clear the Indians were becoming delusional in their desperation to fight this oppression.

The servant in the bathroom was quick to help her out of the corset and Gemma felt like she could suddenly breathe like never before with it removed. Gemma thanked her and the girl nodded before exiting, leaving Gemma to slip into the tub of warm water. She used to once love hot baths but India in the summertime was hotter than hell, so she preferred something more cooling for her skin now. The touch of the water was euphoric to Gemma. She relaxed her head and closed her eyes in bliss, replaying the events of the day in her head.

The afternoon had been long and hot and the girls were bored, as usual. Gemma just really wanted to go see Simon, for she was missing him severely. She had been moody the entire morning because of it. Of course, Felicity and Pippa were quick to figure out the mystery behind the ever secretive Gemma Doyle.

"Really, Gemma. If you pout like that for one more minute, I believe you will have wrinkles at the age of sixteen! For goodness' sake, what has gotten you into such a bothersome mood?!"

Felicity had grown agitated with Gemma's depressed facial expressions. Pippa laughed and Ann just stared off at Gemma, fully recognizing the emotion she was feeling.

"I know what's got Gemma so upset," Pippa started, an evil smile gracing her full pink lips, "Mr. Middleton has clearly imprinted on our precious Gemma's heart! Oh, how horribly romantic!"

Felicity laughed as Pippa drew close enough to Gemma so that she could feel her warm breath against the skin of her cheek. Ann stood up, shock registering on her face.

"Pip! What are you doing?! We're in public!"

Felicity laughed harder as Pip breathed against Gemma's ear, tickling the small red hairs that sat near it, "Shall we dance, my love?" She was mimicking a male voice and then forcefully grabbed a rather hesitant Gemma's hand, twirling her about in her arms in an exaggerated waltz.

At first, Gemma had been annoyed but she soon couldn't help but laugh along with Ann and Felicity.

"Well, why don't we give Gemma an early birthday present? Shall we help her go see her wonderful prince?"

That was how it had started and soon, Felicity and Pip had devised a clever plan of getting rid of Mrs. Rice and kidnapping Gemma to Mr. Middleton's house. Unfortunately, Mrs. Rice was much more difficult to fool then they had suspected and they ended up breaking into a run. When they had thought they had lost her, they assumed she had given up. Instead, she had managed to injure herself in their haste. Gemma pushed that memory out of her head and skipped to the part where Simon had been shocked upon seeing her in his room, looking all flustered and rosy cheeked.

"Gemma, what on earth...how did you get in?"

His voice was low and wonderful but Gemma had only grinned at him, breathing heavily and trying to control the urge to burst out laughing. He seemed surprised but he was smiling and she knew he was happy to see her again.

He then had walked over to her and tried fixing the loose strands of bright red hair that escaped her once neat bun. His fingers against her skin sent a warm sensation all through her body, like a shock. He was standing so close to her, she could feel his body heat against her and this made the longing even stronger. Her breath came in deep and ragged. He leaned in, nose brushing against hers and warm breath coating her lips in a heat she longed to be a part of. Her hand gripped his wrist and she found herself leaning in, eyes closing and body anticipating the much needed contact.

When their lips had met, it had sent shivers down Gemma's spine. His hand traveled to her lower back, leaving a trail of goose bumps on her skin as he had done so. Gemma found herself practically reliving the moment those lips had trailed kisses down her jaw and her neck, hungrily and desperately. That is, until she heard a noise.

Just like that, she came back to reality and opened her eyes. Her heartbeat quickened and then she almost laughed out loud; she was so into the memory, the smallest of sounds was frightening her. Noting that she had been soaking for quite some time now, she got out of the bath, water dripping down her naked body and leaving her crimson coloured hair to form its natural curls. She hummed softly to herself; her life may not be going perfectly but she was getting just about everything she wanted. As she grabbed the towel, she heard another noise again; shuffling of some kind.

Gemma stopped moving. Her eyes shot open wide and she glanced around her. Nothing; it was just the dripping of the water coming off her hair and body. No, she could have sworn she heard it; the clicking of the door. Her eyes were quick to look in the direction of the only exit and entrance. The door was slightly ajar. Panic came in strong waves and Gemma became paranoid, rooted to the spot, too frightened to even blink. Her eyes darted about the room and landed at the expensive painting on the wall of the bathroom. It was a painting of the Lady of Shalott.

But that was not what frightened Gemma; what made Gemma's skin crawl was that there was a man cloaked completely in black, removing the painting from its place and putting it carefully into a bag made of black cloth. _Scream, Gemma. Scream! _ But nothing escaped her lips, her hands remained frozen on the towel and the dripping continued, finally catching the attention of the cloaked male before her.

He turned his face but it was masked, except for his exotic eyes; long lashes and dark eyes, surrounded by tanned skin. An Indian. They widened as they examined her naked body. That did it; Gemma let out a loud, piercing shriek that echoed out of the bathroom and through the entire house. She held the towel to her body and closed her eyes in embarrassment. The man twitched and grabbed the painting quickly, throwing it over his back and making his escape. Gemma did not cease her screaming until people filtered into the bathroom; soldiers. She opened her eyes and upon noticing their hungry stares, looked away quickly and wrapped the towel around her furiously.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you're staring at?! I should have your eyes removed! That's my daughter!"

The soldiers were out before Mr. Doyle said anything more. Gemma felt hot tears sting the back of her eyes. The next thing she knew, her father had his arms wrapped around her and was comforting her.

"There, there, pet."

"Father! The painting...the painting was...s-stolen!"

Gemma hiccupped. The situation became all too familiar; she had been held like this by her father after her mother's death. The memory brought more tears to her eyes as she recalled the woman whose features she now called her own. The servant and a few guards walked into the bathroom, obviously panicked.

"Mr. Doyle! A thief was spotted in the district!"

"I'll have none of that right now; my daughter must be tended to first. The thief can be discussed later. Young miss, can you help her dress?"

The servant was quick to come to Gemma's aid and Mr. Doyle exited the bathroom after the soldiers.

"Now, what exactly happened? What's going on?"

The English soldier's expression became grim and his lips tightened.

"Sir, I think we should take a seat and discuss this thoroughly."

* * *

Kartik dashed through the dark alleys of the rich district, using the black of the night as a blanket to hide under. His breathing came in heavy and sweat was coating his entire body from the weight of the painting on his back and thick material of his clothing. His outfit was beginning to bother him and he knew it was time to adjust it. But that was all normal; it was being caught and having to make an early escape that had truly shook him. But that wasn't all that was sending his body on a fritz; the memory of the young girl's naked and wet body pulsed in his mind like an endless fever and the lower muscles of his abdomen tightened in a powerful lusting.

He clenched his teeth in agitation; he hated this. A woman of her kind was never to spark such feelings in him. He blamed it on Mother Nature and convinced himself that sex was only a natural part of being human. It was also something he did not have the time to think of; he could hear the soldiers farther away, only a few minutes behind his tail. The bastards had finally caught on to his ploy.

A strange happiness and relief overwhelmed him when he saw the familiar brick wall that separated the city into rich scum and poor scum. He jumped it quickly and landed on his feet, the aftershock tingling up his long legs. He tried his hardest to slow his breathing and then removed the black clothing that was constricting him and causing him to sweat so furiously. The head piece was last to come off and he took in a deep breath as fresh air whipped his dark curls about his face. He took the black bag that contained the painting and walked towards an abandoned alleyway. He carefully placed the painting aside and moved the garbage that littered the alley of the poor district around. He desperately swatted at the flies that buzzed at his face in frustration and annoyance. Sweat trickled down his straight nose and the side of his forehead. He dusted off the ground until he found it; the entrance to his hiding spot. He then lifted the painting over his shoulders and walked down the stairs before closing the entrance behind him.

After securing the painting next to other precious relics he had previously stolen, he walked down the large room he had created, walking past his costumes, weapons and plans. He then climbed up a different set of stairs and opened a different exit; one that lead to an alley closer to his home. He climbed out and shut it behind him, covering it with dirt and boxes of garbage. Dusting off his hands on his trousers, he walked into the light of the moon.

"Walking the streets in the middle of the night again, Kartik? What will your mother say?"

Kartik stopped walking as the familiar feminine voice drifted into his ears. He smiled to himself upon realization. Turning to face her, his smile widened. She stepped out of the shadows, her dark red sari floating behind her as she did so. Her long, dark brown hair was neatly braided and her tanned skin brightened under the gleam of moonlight. She was smiling at him with full, pink lips and Kartik merely raised his arms in defence.

"You caught me, Priya. Now, I will do anything if you keep quiet about this. You see, I do this secret thing at night..."

Priya laughed quietly and he found it intoxicating and contagious. She placed a delicate hand on his shoulder and Kartik tensed; the image of the girl's body continued to intrude his thoughts persistently. He placed his hand on hers and removed it. A frown played itself among her lips.

"So what is this thing you do at night, mystery man?"

She giggled girlishly and he smiled back playfully.

"Ahem, well you see...at night, I become this super handsome man that goes around wooing beautiful and gullible women in the city. They seem to find me utterly enchanting!"

Kartik cupped his chin and smiled, attempting a stab at his brother's rather unique charming ways. Priya shoved him playfully and burst out laughing.

"If my mother ever found out..."

Kartik looked about nervously and Priya quirked up a dark eyebrow curiously, "What? What would happen to the most handsome hero of the night?"

"The most dreadful of things would happen; my mother would make me marry one of those women! And then it would get even worse..."

Priya was laughing so hard now she began having trouble speaking, "W-what would be worse?"

Kartik's expression never faltered; he chewed at his lip with fear in his dark eyes, "She would ask for grandchildren!"

Priya laughed harder before asking, "Why, oh why would that be so terrible for the handsome hero?"

"Because," Kartik said in a matter-of-fact way, "Who is to keep all those poor housewives company when their husbands are simply no good in the bed? All those older women would be hurt and offended. It would be doing my country a disservice!"

Priya whacked Kartik playfully against his chest, "Oh, do stop, Kartik! Enough!" Kartik grinned and began walking back towards his house.

"Are you leaving so soon?" Priya was on his heels, a smile still on her lips.

"Well, it is late and if I stay out longer, I fear my mother will begin to worry. I can't stand to break a woman's heart," then Kartik added in a whisper, "Especially one who can hit me harder than my own brother!"

Priya giggled but stopped following Kartik. He turned around and smiled at her.

"What would you do if I told her?" She teased.

"You musn't!" Kartik got on his knees and pleaded.

"Hmm... I will keep quiet under one condition." She had an evil glint in her eyes as she eyed Kartik's full lips suspiciously.

A corner of his mouth went up in a smile, "And what would that be?"

"A kiss goodnight from the handsome hero of the night."

Kartik smiled, "Close your eyes." Priya complied and he began to lean in. He planted a soft kiss on her cheek and then dashed off home.

Priya simply stood there, slightly agitated that he had joked with her so but the skin on her face tingled from his touch. She touched the spot gently and smiled before making her way back home. Sooner or later, she would discover his true secrets. After all, if she was to succeed in becoming his wife, then it was necessary; completely necessary.

* * *

**A/N: **_There it is, chapter three! I know, I know...everyone wants more karma but patience is a virtue. I just wanted to introduce most of the characters I'll be dealing with as well as all of the complex relationships. You guys are probably already getting a feel with how many 'pairings' I'm going to involve in this. I just hope you guys enjoyed! Yet again, reviews always make me happy so review away! :) Questions, comments and even criticism; it's all welcome! Next chapter probably won't be this long... _


	4. Vulnerable

**The Pretender**

**A/N: **_The reviews are greatly appreciated! It makes me happy to see people enjoying this fic, considering it had all started out as a lame idea that blossomed from a very bored imagination. Then again, that's how all my ideas are created. Anyways, here's chapter four. _

_Song: _Nothing Special  
_Artist: _illScarlett

_"But you think that I can't see what kind of man that you are, if you're a man at all..." _~Decode, Paramore

* * *

**Vulnerable**

The dream always followed a familiar sequence. There was the memory of his father's death, ever so vivid, and his voice crying out Kartik's name in agony. Then there were the memories of his childhood; precious moments with his father that he held on to with desperation. After all the tears and the screaming, Kartik would open his eyes to find those haunting jade orbs watching him with that lingering gaze. Before he'd wake up in his own bed with panic evident in his heavy breathing and sweat covered body, he would see the rest of her in all that naked glory.

The piercing sunlight snuck through the windows of his bedroom and his breathing slowed. He closed his eyes in relaxation and threw the covers off of him, revealing his naked torso, still slick with his sweat. His muscles tensed for he could still feel those eyes on him like an itch that never really went away. He tried focusing on the better part of the dream; the memory of his father, in particular, the one before he had died. Kartik knew that one like the back of his hand. He had analyzed it so many times, as if there was always something he was missing; some sort of clue his father left him with.

A sharp knock on his bedroom door quickly brought him out of his reverie, "Kartik? Are you dressed yet? Amar is already waiting for you outside! Hurry it up, will you?!"

A smile graced his lips and he chuckled to himself, "Yes, mother. I'll be out soon."

Knowing he was pressed for time since his mother never ceased to remind him, Kartik just washed his body and grabbed a clean shirt, throwing it over his shoulder as he headed out the door.

It was his mother who scolded him just as he opened the door, "Just where do you think you are going without some proper clothes on?!"

Kartik paused just as the heat of early morning pressed itself against his tanned skin. He rolled his eyes before turning to face his mother with a charming smile, "You know I like to give the neighbourhood girls something to swoon over. How else do you expect me to find a bride?"

He almost choked on his laughter when his mother blushed and smiled at him bashfully, "Oh! Yes, yes! Go on then! You might as well remove your trousers while you're at it!"

Kartik's eyes widened as his mother shoved him out of the house, "Woah! Let's not get carried away!"

Despite his protests, his mother was still smiling like a fool in the doorway as Kartik stumbled down the steps. Amar wore a smile of amusement and his dark eyes sparkled with a laughter he was concealing as he stood watching the spectacle. When the door shut, Kartik stood still staring at the door with his mouth opened.

"Well," Amar started, "Are we going to the market or do you plan on gawking at the door all day until it spontaneously combusts?"

Kartik gave Amar a dangerous glare but his older brother merely laughed it off. He then picked up a wooden stick from the ground and began walking down the dirt road. Kartik was on his heels, hands in his pocket with his shirt still hanging off his shoulder. The sun felt good against his skin and he was never the type to care much for modesty; he was not an English gentleman and tried his best to prove that.

"So..." Kartik was first to break the strange silence that hung in the air, "Are we practicing tonight?"

Amar continued to stare down the street, squinting like he was looking for something or examining something in the distance. Kartik eyed him suspiciously and occasionally tried following his gaze to no avail.

"It depends." Was all that Amar managed to say, knowing very well that he was tormenting Kartik to no end and was enjoying every second of it.

"Depends? Depends on what?" Kartik questioned, just as predicted. A corner of Amar's mouth went up in a half smile.

"It depends on whether or not I feel like it."

Kartik growled in his throat; a noise rising with every passing moment of agitation. He glared at Amar but his furiousness only grew when his brother paid him no mind.

"Why do you do this?" Kartik's dark eyebrows furrowed in a familiar rage, "Do you enjoy playing such games with me?"

Amar threw his head back and laughed before looking at Kartik with a remnant of a smile. Kartik's lips didn't even twitch.

"Actually, Kartik..." Amar started in a more serious tone, "there was someone I wanted you to meet and it all depends on whether or not he'd show up. He's a bit of a...scoundrel, you can say."

Kartik paused in his step for a moment, "Wait...what? You're going to get some filthy scoundrel to train me today?"

Amar turned to look at Kartik with warning eyes, "You should not be one to talk little of scoundrels. You haven't exactly earned a very respecting title. I was expecting you to take these skills I've shown you and use them for good. And yet all you've done is cause a ruckus among the people here and earned yourself a reputation of a good for nothing thief."

Kartik's mouth fell open in mock hurt and shock; an act he always managed to pull off effectively. It was one of the many skills Amar had taught him. His hands rested at his chest as if one had just stabbed him directly in the heart.

"Brother! How can you belittle me so?! How many English soldiers have I made a fool of? You cannot tell me you did not laugh when they managed to run into the pigs' gruel while attempting to catch me." Kartik smiled, showing pearly whites that glittered against his darker skin.

Amar did not smile. Instead, he stared through Kartik like he was a clown who was terrible at his job. His smile fell and he was quick to fall into step with his older brother when Amar continued his trip to the market.

No more words were exchanged between the two, mainly because Amar seemed to be ignoring Kartik and all his pestering questions until Kartik finally just gave up. As the people began crowding the streets, Kartik continued to notice the young women who passed him as they blushed and giggled. He smiled back but was confused at first as to why the ladies were looking away with reddened cheeks and why the men looked like they wanted to smack him a hard one.

"Kartik, would you please put your shirt on? You're embarrassing me."

He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his already messy dark curls, "Oh...right."

He threw his shirt on and smacked himself mentally when he noticed the hole in his shirt perfectly exposing his right nipple. Great. Of all the shirts, he had to pick this one. He could have sworn he had thrown it out...

Now the people that walked by straight out laughed at him and Kartik just glared back, trying his hardest to adjust the shirt so that it revealed unnamed territory on his torso instead of a damn nipple. When they had reached the shop stall and were to begin setup, even Amar eyed him and laughed out loud; this time a laugh that was far from enigmatic and romantic. It sounded more like a girly shrill to Kartik.

"Well, look who's up bright and early." Upon hearing it, Kartik could almost taste the bile rising up in his throat. Yet, Amar was transfixed almost immediately. Both brothers turned their attention to the young Indian female, Kartik more reluctant than Amar. Nonetheless, he forced a happy smile and Amar was all charm and sex appeal. Gag reflex officially initiated.

"Puja! I...We weren't expecting you today! Your father did not tell me you were starting up shop today."

Amar had the look of a lovesick puppy practically melting on the leash. Kartik looked around, distracting himself with mindlessness in an attempt to be invisible. A girlish laughter and Kartik was forced to make eye contact with the young woman. His gaze was met with long black hair and large hazel eyes hovering dangerously underneath sharp dark eyebrows. A silver piercing decorated the side of her nose and her dark skin clashed with her bright blue sari. Her facial features were similar to Priya's but did not have the same youthfulness. Puja; Priya's older cousin.

"Kartik! What has happened to your shirt?" She laughed and Kartik looked at Amar with pure disgust in his expression.

"Well..." Kartik attempted, shuffling with the shirt, "You are right. I should go fix it. Can't waste time talking!"

Kartik waved and tried an escape but a light tug at the back of his shirt held him back and he grinded his teeth in agitation.

"Kartik! Don't be so rude to a lady. You'll ruin my reputation." Amar chuckled and Puja seemed to force a small echo of a laugh that was as empty as her words.

"Why don't you wear that lovely shirt that Priya had gotten you? I believe it would be handsome on you, not to mention...romantic of you."

Kartik turned around hesitantly and smiled sheepishly, "Oh! Yes...um...I, err...Don't want to dirty it. You know, work at the marketplace gets...rough. I mean how handsome can it look when it's got mud splattered all over it?"

Kartik laughed but stopped when his voice was the only one he heard. He paused and looked back and forth from Puja and Amar.

"Well...perhaps you can wear it on one of your days off..." A sly grin decorated Puja's thick lips and Kartik swallowed hard, "Maybe on the day your mom has requested us over for dinner?"

Kartik's eyebrows furrowed and Amar was quick to silence him before something nasty came out of his mouth, "Wait, what the heck do you-"

"Oh, don't mind him. He's just so excited, he can hardly contain himself. Just as I am, Puja."

"Excited?! Me?! Hah! I have plans. Can't make it. Count. Me. Out." Kartik finished with bitterness, adding a strong emphasis to his last words.

Amar grabbed Kartik by the throat, his strong and firm grip taking the younger brother by complete surprise and almost killing him. Kartik felt his feet lift off of the ground and he choked and sputtered for air like a fish out of water.

"Kartik! You. Will. Be. There. And you will wear the shirt. No questions, no plans. Understood?!"

Kartik squeezed out a wheezing, "Okay, okay!" with much struggle and effort.

Amar dropped Kartik to his feet and turned to smile handsomely at a rather worried Puja. Kartik, on the other hand, was coughing up a furball and rubbing his sore throat.

"He'll be there. No worries."

Amar grinned but Puja's smile was weak and still forced. She tilted her upper body to the side so that she could see Kartik's tall frame still choking behind Amar.

"Kartik, I was refusing to believe those rumours but...perhaps they hold a bit of truth?" Another devious smile crossed Puja's lips and Kartik looked up from his coughing fit that had made his eyes large and teary.

"Wh-...What rumours?" Kartik felt like this whole conversation was turning into a setup, like it always was with Puja.

"Oh you haven't heard?" Kartik stood up, raising a dark eyebrow in curiosity and Puja leaned closer to him and Amar. Kartik could sense his brother's form tense up at her sudden closeness.

Her voice came out like a soft whisper but Kartik didn't buy her false innocence, "They say that you are interested in men."

Puja pulled back and laughed softly while Amar stared at Kartik in an uneasy way. Oh, that was it.

"You know what? We've wasted enough time chitchatting. It was lovely talking to you, PUJA, but if we don't open the stall soon, the customers will have my head."

Kartik practically huffed and puffed away from the scene. Angrily, he used his full strength as he moved about heavy wooden crates and signs marked in Hindi. Amar was behind him in a matter of minutes after licking Puja's feet like the faithful dog that he was. Kartik didn't care about it though; he was just grateful for the silence this time. It left him to his own thoughts and questions, which may have been more dangerous to him than his brother's brute strength...

* * *

Boredom was extremely common in the Doyle household, especially when both Tom and Gemma were being held captive for the entire day. Without a chaperone and her father and grandmother far too busy with...whatever it was they were doing, Tom was left to babysit and Gemma was to waste away. She was currently analyzing her book shelf for a good read since she couldn't take so much as sharing a sentence with her drab brother.

Finally settling upon her old favourite, _Pride and Prejudice_, Gemma curled up on a chair in front of the fireplace and opened the book to the very first page. Tom sat opposite her, slinked in the chair with half opened eyes and unruly blonde hair, looking as if he was going to murder her for this punishment.

"You know...I could be out by now. I could be exploring and learning. If you would just act like a lady for once, we both wouldn't be in this situation." Tom glared daggers at Gemma whose eyes never left the page even for an instant.

"Oh, shut it, will you? The only thing you want to explore and learn about is the anatomy of a female. Besides, it's not like I'm enjoying this anymore than you are, dearest brother."

Gemma never looked up as she spoke; instead she turned the page, already imagining Mr. Darcy coming along to rescue her from her horrendous brother. Tom was sitting upright in the chair, face flushed with anger and embarrassment. Gemma would have laughed at the effect of her words but refrained for maturity's sake.

"W-well, you should be one to talk! We all know what your plans consisted of and his name is Simon Middleton! You would probably be off sparking more rumours of scandal right this moment if it were up to you!" Tom smirked victoriously when Gemma snapped the book shut and glared with venomous green eyes, a blush creeping up to her pale cheeks.

"D-don't speak about it like you know anything of it!" Gemma huffed, folding her arms across her chest. Tom laughed and Gemma felt an urge to knock him out with a quick fist to the face.

"With all those rumours and details about my little sister and Mr. Middleton, it's not like there's much left to imagine, Gemma."

"Why you-"

Before Gemma could retort a crude comment, a maid entered the living room looking slightly flustered as she bowed politely.

"Ms. Doyle, you have some visitors; Ms. Bradshaw, Ms. Worthington and a Ms. Cross."

All thoughts of murdering Tom vanished as Gemma smiled in sheer happiness; her friends never let her down. As the maid disappeared, the three girls stumbled into the living room looking all flushed and heated.

"Why must India be this hot all the time? Such despicable weather. Almost makes me miss England."

Gemma grinned and enveloped Felicity in a tight hug before doing the same to the others. Tom sat in his chair, rolling his eyes.

"I'm so glad you guys came. You've no idea what a dreadful bore this all was!" Gemma beamed as Felicity walked up to the chair where Pride and Prejudice lay closed and abandoned. She picked it up and muttered, "I can tell..."

Pippa followed after Felicity, dark curls bouncing with her as she did so and Gemma could see from the corner of her eye that Tom was eyeing her like a piece of fresh meat. But it was Ann who remained at the entrance, shuffling her feet nervously with blushing cheeks. Gemma approached her with curiosity.

"Ann, what's the matter? Why don't you come in?"

Ann's dark blue eyes met Gemma's green ones in bewilderment but her voice remained soft spoken and upset, "Umm...oh. N-nothing."

Gemma smiled and then invited the girls an escape to her room where they could talk in private, away from Tom's hungry eyes. It was Felicity and Pippa who were bold enough to lay on Gemma's bed, feet kicking in the air, modesty forgotten with more than just ankle being revealed.

Ann sat at Gemma's vanity set, admiring all the expensive combs and jewellery while Gemma sat on the lone couch fiddling with a loose titian curl.

"So we heard what happened. You don't seem too bothered with it, Gemma."

Felicity was the first to get right into it. Gemma sighed and shrugged her shoulders, knowing very well that all ears were keen on her as of the moment.

"I suppose I was embarrassed but...he was a stranger. What are the chances that I'll run into him again? Not to mention, I didn't even see his face. The only part of him that was uncovered was his eyes. If anything, I can't stand the way the guards look at me now."

Pippa rolled over on her back and Ann combed through her sandy brown hair. Gemma didn't look at anyone but preoccupied herself with the examination of her hair.

"So, you didn't even notice him coming in?" Felicity giggled, "Was he that slick?"

Pippa began to play with one of Felicity's blonde locks but allowed a small smile to play amongst her lips nonetheless.

"I don't know. I didn't notice him, alright? He just came in and stole the painting. I saw him do it and that's what matters."

Pippa and Felicity giggled while Ann turned her attention to Gemma with concerned eyes.

"So...if he's the famed assassin, why didn't he kill you?" It was Pippa's question, violet eyes squinting in amusement.

"I...I don't know. I screamed pretty loudly. The guards would have caught him if he tried. Can we just change the subject? I've already been thoroughly analyzed by every single person in this household; I'd appreciate it if my friends didn't."

"Fine. No need to be so touchy, Gemma. We were just curious."

Gemma rolled her eyes in agitation and Ann finally managed to speak up, "But Gemma...don't you feel immodest now? I mean...some Indian man from the slums got to look at you...n-naked."

Gemma looked up and glared at Ann rather viciously, "What do I care what he saw? He may have possibly looked upon the very thing he'll never possess so let him go on and stare! Besides, I've already developed a reputation, so it's not like it can get any worse."

Felicity smiled deviously; a smile Gemma was all too familiar with. Gemma looked away and continued to fix her hair to the point where she could swear she most likely destroyed it instead.

"Speaking of reputation...Simon's is getting rather tainted because of all these rumours. So now his father is furious with him and..." Felicity paused, biting her bottom lip seductively, "he apparently wants to set him up with this girl from England."

Gemma stood up in such a hurry that everyone in the room looked at her, watching for her next move.

"No! That's a lie! Simon he...It can't be true! It's just a silly rumour."

Gemma waved it off with her hand and sat back down, calming herself down with her own assurances. Felicity only giggled and stared at her with powerful gray-blue eyes.

"I suppose it may be a rumour..." Pippa was braiding a small bundle of Felicity's platinum blonde hair.

"Either way, Gemma, you'd be wise to make your move before it's too late. If you want Simon, you best do something about it." Felicity's words rang true even though a part of Gemma didn't like them.

"The only obstacle is your chaperone...if you behave, you get Simon in the long run but at the same time, you can't sneak off to see him whenever you like..." Even Ann was joining in with truth and honesty. Gemma decided; she did not like reasoning.

* * *

The sun seemed to burn much stronger in the lazy afternoon and Kartik found himself wishing for a cold bath to relax the tension in his body. Passing one of the stalls, he stole an apple and bit into it viciously, removing more than half of its contents then and there. The shopkeeper glared at Kartik and let out a few slings of insults in Hindi at him. Kartik smiled with his mouth full and a bit of the apple's juice ran down his chin. The shopkeeper waved his fist but Kartik dashed away.

When he arrived at the stall him and Amar were working at, he noticed his brother sitting down on one of the crates, breaking open a coconut and mercilessly eating away its contents. Amar looked up when Kartik took a seat in front of him, finishing off his stolen apple.

After Amar wiped his mouth clean, he looked at Kartik with stern and serious eyes, "Mrs. Doyle is in the marketplace today. Not willingly, of course. The people are saying she seems to be looking for an eligible chaperone for that young girl."

Kartik froze. He looked up, bewilderment in his dark eyes running amok and destroying the facade he was so good at creating. Amar quirked up an eyebrow, "What's with the face? It's as if you've seen a ghost."

Kartik came out of it quickly and smiled again, patting his brother's shoulder in comfort as he stood up and stretched. He let out a lazy yawn and scratched at his hard stomach.

"Why are you telling me this, brother?"

A pause but Kartik's eyes were elsewhere and yet his attention ever so keen. Amar looked at Kartik, a blank expression on his stubbly face.

"Because," Amar sighed, "if you're going to do something rash, which I know you will, it's better that you plan it out ahead of time before going on a spur of the moment tirade and nearly get yourself killed like you always do."

Kartik chuckled, a laugh that was real and coming from the core. There was an edge of sarcasm to it, much like a double edged sword. He turned to face Amar, grinning like a joker.

"You know me too well, brother. So save me the trouble and tell me where."

Amar stood up so quick; he knocked back the wooden crate in his silent rage.

"Kartik! You do not even know anything! Don't assume things and get yourself killed over some silly misunderstanding!"

Kartik's face hardened, for once showing his true colors. A powerful lust for revenge masked his dark eyes and for a brief second, Amar saw the monster lurking inside his younger brother. And in a split second, it was gone. Kartik's act came back and he was smiling like a fool but something sinister existed there too.

"You won't tell me? Well then...I best be off to find her for myself. I think we'll skip training for tonight. Tell mother I'll be late. Running errands for Khan."

Kartik hopped over the stall and broke into a run down the market place.

"Kartik! I will not lie for you anymore!! Kartik!!! Come back!!"

Amar's voice didn't reach Kartik's ears and even if it had, something told Amar that it wouldn't have mattered either way. The boy ran like he was in a race for his life. Amar sat back down, carrying his head in his hands before whispering to himself, "What have I done...?"

* * *

A/N: **I don't like ranting in an author's note but I actually just want to explain things and stuff so this is going to be long.  
Yes, it's a cliffhanger. Sorry! I'm sure you guys all have questions buzzing about and don't worry! All shall be answered eventually. I'm sure you guys want to know what Amar's deal is and why Kartik hates Puja. You're probably thinking this authoress is nuts for making rumours of a gay Kartik but...everything has a reason and a purpose in my story. So even the tiniest of details is crucial.  
**

**There'll be mentions of other pairings soon enough (if you caught any hints in this chapter, then you're pretty good :P) Well actually...they're kind of obvious but...you still get credit!  
**

**About the chapter itself... I gave Kartik a 'facade' character for comic relief more than anything. Because face it, after those first few chapters of intense seriousness, we all need a good laugh now and then. Oh and yes, Kartik is two years older than Gemma here because...I don't know, Kartik is mature and wise. I always assumed he'd be a lot older than Gemmie.  
P.S. The nipple shirt goes out to all Kartik fangirls :) As well as the topless moment...*evil snicker*  
Comments/Questions/Cristisicm= ALL WELCOME. Motivate me, people :) It does work...really. Make Kartik happy...and I'll make him topless :D **

**Oh and HAPPY NEW YEARS TO EVERYONE WHO'S READING THIS...at 12:30...Wow, I should sleep...  
**


	5. Meetings

**The Pretender**

**A/N: **_Feedback is great. Thanks to everyone who's reviewing and reading. Greatly appreciated :) Now for chapter five..._

_Song: _Nemo  
_Artist: _Nightwish

* * *

**Meetings**

It wasn't ever difficult to find any of the rich English when they decided to make a visit to the poor district. If anything, Kartik found this part to be the easiest. The hunt wasn't what gave him the adrenaline rush, it was the chase. A malicious smile graced his lips as his mind grinded together a plot; some sort of idea. He ran through the dirt streets, pushing past many customers and merchants as he did so. He received a few curses and an occasional shove but it was nothing he couldn't recover from.

All he really had to do was question some people and they'd instantly reveal to him whatever it was they had seen, not knowing just how dangerous their information could be in the wrong hands. She was in the market somewhere, that much Kartik was aware of. So all he had to do now was follow the gossip and the crowds and he'd find her. With such a rich name as Mrs. Doyle, she would no doubt be dressed in such a way that would make her instantly recognized. Not to mention the amount of guards that would be watching her every delicate step as she went about.

Kartik stopped his dashing and took in deep and heavy breaths, dark eyes lurking dangerously under dark brows, scanning the area. That's when he saw her; about two guards were hovering nearby as she chatted with Savita, the wife of the famous merchant, Kaim. Slowly, Kartik inched closer and closer to the scene until he could finally catch a few of the English words being exchanged.

"Come now, I would be paying you rather handsomely for your services." Mrs. Doyle spoke softly, smiling at Savita emptily, causing Kartik to almost sneer in disgust.

"I cannot, if I was to accept such an offer, there would be no one who would help my husband with his shop. I must decline, Mrs. Doyle."

The older woman's lips tightened in a hard smile but Savita didn't give in, continuing to arrange the many bracelets and jewels placed on display.

"Name your price. It shall not matter; I will afford it." Mrs Doyle searched Savita's expression to no avail before continuing, "With the kind of money I shall give you, this shop will no longer be needed. You and your husband would be happy for an eternity."

Savita stopped what she was doing and looked Mrs. Doyle dead in the eyes, shaking her head in a strong manner, "No. I'm sorry, Mrs. Doyle. Perhaps you aren't used to being turned down, but there will never come a day where I shall work for you and such a spoiled girl. Goodbye, Mrs. Doyle."

The soldiers' hands were instantly on the hilts of their swords but Mrs. Doyle backed off, looking at Savita with pure insult and hatred. Nothing was stopping her from destroying the woman and yet, Savita did not yield.

"You will regret this."

The soldiers smiled. Kartik was quicker though; he made his way to Savita's stall and picked up a beautiful gold chain with a bright green emerald hanging loosely off of it.

"What an exquisite piece...Say, is there any way you can cut me a deal on this?" Kartik smiled, partly out of acting but mostly because he knew he had their attention.

Savita looked at Kartik curiously, dark eyebrows furrowed in question as she took in his appearance. She snatched it out of his hands and left Kartik looking like a lost puppy.

"There is no way you can afford this, Kartik. Shouldn't you be helping your brother at Khan's stall?"

Savita placed the necklace back in its place before giving a nervous glance at the soldiers watching with eyes of a predator.

"Clear the way boy, the shop is closing down. Don't waste your time here anymore." The soldier smirked as he made his way towards Savita who was glaring daggers at him. His hand never left the hilt of his sword.

Kartik looked at the soldier and smiled, then turned his attention back to Savita, "Okay, fine. So I can't afford the jewellery, but how about a new shirt? I hear Kaim's shirts are of the best quality. Surely I can afford that."

Savita pursed her lips as Kartik indicated the hole that exposed his nipple. The other soldier was behind him now; he could practically feel his closeness. Mrs. Doyle stood by watching as she fanned herself; she seemed to be amused by the entire ordeal. Kartik would be sure to give her a show. By now, there was a small amount of people pausing to watch the tense moment between the guards and Savita.

"You can live with that hole until you get home. Get going, Kartik. I'll deal with them."

Kartik put his fingers in the single hole and tugged at the edges, completely ripping the shirt off of him and exposing his sun kissed upper body. He then rubbed the remnants under his underarms and over his body, making sure it took in his sweat. Then he threw the shirt at the soldier's face.

"Take care of that, will you? I'm sure you're used to taking out the trash."

The soldier behind him tensed up in the split second as he attempted to lunge but Kartik was quicker; he stuck his foot out behind him as far as the soldier's own foot and then tripped him with ease. He ducked when the soldier before him drew his sword. Kartik then pulled out the other soldier's sword and sparred teasingly with the one before him. As he did, he managed to study his features; the man had a scar running from the corner of his right eye and skating across his nose to his left cheek.

The man's dark moustache seemed to curl above his snarling mouth as he put in as much brute strength as possible into each strike. Kartik could only do so much to keep from laughing; he could see scar face's errors. He could end his life with the carelessness his rage has left him in. But instead, Kartik pitied the fool.

The other soldier was up on his feet and slightly lost without his sword at his side. There were gasps and awes from the crowd that developed around the scene. Finally, growing bored of toying with scar face, Kartik flicked the sword at the man's wrist, hitting a muscle that caused him to drop his own weapon. Silence filled the void as Kartik pointed his own sword at the man's neck; more out of instinct than anything else. Then he threw it back to the soldier whom he had knocked down previously.

"Well, that was a good workout. Thanks, boys."

Just as Kartik turned his back, both soldiers angled their swords against his neck in a criss cross fashion, holding him stable. Kartik raised his hands in surrender.

"You dare make a fool of me, foolish boy! I should rip out your throat and make a bloody mess for all of your people to watch!" Scar face was practically spitting in his ear and Kartik cringed at the close proximity.

Sweat trickled down his body and the side of his forehead, sticking his crazy dark curls to his skin. His breaths came in deeper and he could feel his heartbeat still thrumming strongly against his chest. He took in a big gulp of air, fighting back the insane laughter that threatened to spill. He was losing his mind. He wanted to kill them and the feeling came like a heated passion; a lust that burned in his veins. How easily he could do it, how quickly he could end their short lived victory. And yet, the small bit of sanity that remained in him got the better of him and kept him still; obedient like an Indian dog.

"Why don't we give the crowd something to really remember?" The other soldier sneered as his gloved finger toyed with one of Kartik's damp, dark curls.

The beast like urge flared inside of Kartik; he could feel it rising. He was so enraged that all he simply wanted to do was rip the man's head off with as much strength as he could muster. It would mean carelessness and leaving himself open but his anger was a force in itself.

"That will be enough."

It was Mrs. Doyle's heavy accented English that broke the tension and sent Kartik back to reality. Almost instantly, his heartbeat slowed and the venom inside of him subsided. The soldiers even seemed to remember their place, looking on at the older woman, completely distracted. Kartik took this as his chance; he ducked below the soldiers' swords and stood facing them as they finally realized their mistake.

They lunged at him, swords at the ready but Kartik dodged every blow almost effectively. One had managed to skim him on the side of his abdomen and left a slight open wound, the blood coming out fresh.

"I said, that is enough. There is nothing else to see here, so do get along, will you?" Once again Mrs. Doyle addressed everyone, looking at them with those stern, aged jade eyes that had haunted Kartik in his dreams; his nightmares.

When Mrs. Doyle began to approach the soldiers and Kartik, the crowd slowly managed to disperse but not without a long wave of excited gossip and comments about, no doubt, Kartik's behaviour. Savita was also quick to Kartik's side, examining his body for any wounds. She had gotten a neighbour to keep an eye on her stall as she was helping Kartik.

"I am fine, woman! It's only a tiny cut." Kartik whined as she examined the open flesh carefully and wiped at the fresh blood with a wet cloth.

"Oh, do be quiet and keep still! A tiny cut can become infected and then you'll be crying for your mother all night. I only wish to save her the trouble." Savita chided as Kartik clicked his tongue in frustration.

Mrs. Doyle in the meantime had managed to find a way to get the soldiers to put back their swords but not without complaints and agitation.

"That boy insulted us! Why should we let a filthy Indian dog get away with what he did?!" It was scar face that spoke first, spitting as he argued his right to murder Kartik right then and there.

Mrs. Doyle stared straight through him, quiet and still as if she was waiting for something from him. As the soldiers huffed and puffed and expanded their chests like male gorillas, Mrs. Doyle remained the most delicate of ladies.

"You are actually going to protect that scoundrel?! He is only a useless Indian! If he dies, no one would miss him anyways!" The other soldier jumped in, seeming almost as furious as scar face but not as embarrassed since he hadn't been bested by a kid.

Kartik tensed and his hands clenched into tight fists. Savita could practically see the rage overwhelm his body, like a fire that was never really doused. Yet again, Mrs. Doyle stood still, watching both the soldiers with uninterested eyes, like a rabbit watching a hungry pack of tigers circle her as if they weren't going to eat her. Kartik recalled the day when Mr. Doyle had saved him from the soldiers; he did not need their protection and it sickened him to think he was indebted to them. No; his mission remained unchanged. It was the Doyle's who were behind his father's death. No matter how many times they saved his life, all he could think of was how they didn't spare his father's.

Besides, he could have killed the soldiers if he wanted to and something told him that Mrs. Doyle hadn't helped him out of pure kindness from her ever cold heart. Unknowingly, Kartik was glaring at Mrs. Doyle, deep in his own thoughts. Savita may have been busy dressing his wounds but even she could see the anger marked in his dark eyes.

"Are you two finished now?" Mrs. Doyle's words were soft but it was obvious she was withholding her agitation.

The soldiers looked at her with menacing eyes, as if they wanted to hit her but knew that they couldn't. She, on the other hand, lifted her chin and stared at them as if daring them to try something; anything.

"Now that you have settled down, let us speak like civilized human beings. I just want to have a word with the boy; I shall punish him myself for his cruel behaviour." Both Kartik and Savita were now paying close attention.

The soldiers didn't look completely content but they did relax somewhat. Scar face was still looking like a menace; his ego and his pride were injured and he was currently busy nursing them. The fact that an older lady was telling him to calm down only seemed to anger him even more.

"Oh, what are you going to do?! Slap his wrists and then let him go free?! That is hardly a punishment for what he has done! You should let a man teach that boy some manners!" Scar face was relentless even when his buddy had given it up.

"You are dismissed. Go make yourself useful where your skills are actually needed. Thank you, soldier."

With that, Mrs. Doyle gave him her back, her eyes landing on Kartik almost instantly. Kartik stared right back, his expression taut and empty. Savita stood up next to him and adjusted her sari over her shoulder, the golden bracelets on her arms clanging as she did so. Scar face stood fuming on the spot Mrs Doyle left him in but he did not make a move. Instead, Mrs. Doyle walked towards Kartik, a corner of her mouth rising in an intrigued half smile. When she was merely a few feet away from him, she extended her pale hand in a manner of greeting. Savita looked back and forth from Kartik to the older British woman. Kartik didn't so much as flinch.

"Agatha Doyle. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Mrs. Doyle's hand remained and her gaze drank in all of Kartik's youthful features.

After an awkward moment of silence and much staring, Mrs. Doyle put her hand down and then glanced at Savita who was looking at her with morbid disgust.

Mrs. Doyle cleared her throat and started, "If you don't mind, I'd like to share a few words with you, young sir. Alone, that is."

Laughter returned to Kartik's eyes and he looked at Savita, signalling that it was okay for her to leave. She returned the gesture with a quick touch on his shoulder before walking slowly back to her stall. Kartik put his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky with a dreamer's gaze.

"Shall we take a walk?" Mrs. Doyle requested before she started taking short strides.

She fanned herself furiously and Kartik could see she wasn't used to the hot Indian sun. He replied with a simple nod and began following her, hating every second of it. He didn't know what to expect; was she really going to punish him and if so, why the hell was he just walking into it?

As if to put his restless mind at ease, Mrs. Doyle answered his unvoiced questions, "You can relax. I am not going to punish you. I merely said that so that those two oafs would leave us to talk." She paused and smiled at a confused Kartik before continuing, "Yes, I just want to talk. It isn't that much trouble I hope."

Kartik stared at the ground, not exactly knowing what to do with himself; here he was walking down a busy street under the hot Indian sun with an older British lady. And to top it all off, he still had no shirt. He could smack himself for how strange this all looked to outsiders. He stopped when Mrs. Doyle paused by a stall with very fine linen and clothing on display. She played with the fabric in between her fingertips with a smile on her face.

"You are very skilled." She spoke, but did not meet Kartik's frantic eyes.

All the rage was gone now and replaced with worry, confusion and wonder. Kartik did not feel like he could trust this woman and so was keeping up his guard just in case this was all some sort of trick. Mrs. Doyle pointed at a piece of clothing on display and the shopkeeper quickly wrapped it up for her.

"You and I both know you could have killed those two soldiers. And yet...you didn't." She turned to look at him this time, picking up the package of clothes as she spoke.

Kartik looked away and let out a deep sigh before bluntly asking in accented English, "What do you want?"

His dark eyes scanned her face dangerously beneath long lashes. She simply let out a small ladylike laugh before handing over the package of clothes she had just purchased to Kartik. He looked at it suspiciously and then back at her, not quite knowing what to do. People that passed by were staring and whispering. It was driving Kartik insane being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Straight to the point, aren't you? Actually, I didn't save you so that you'd do me a favour." She shoved the package against his chest as she said this, leaving Kartik no choice but to hold it against his forearms.

Kartik raised a dark brow in question but Mrs. Doyle continued to walk, leaving Kartik to catch up. He was starting to get sick of this game. The sun was setting and his muscles were sore both from the fight and from working. What he would give for a hot bath. When he caught up, she instantly turned to face him, coming so close that Kartik found himself almost bending backwards to save some face.

"As a matter of fact, I actually want to ask _you_ of a favour...You will be paid of course, rather handsomely, too."

Now Kartik was really confused; just what exactly was this woman going to ask him for? He eyed her up and down and found that she was at least a good forty years older than him. Kartik looked at her with an amused smile on his face.

"You do not even know my name, Mrs. Doyle." Kartik remarked as he raised a hand to stroke his strong jaw, his eyes still roaming her body.

"It is because you have yet to offer it, sir." Mrs. Doyle was giving him a sketchy look, slightly disgusted by the way he looked at her.

Kartik smiled playfully, "To most women, I am known as the handsome man of the night. To the men, I am known as a home wrecker. However, my mother calls me Kartik."

Mrs. Doyle smiled back, "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kartik. Now...To clarify things, and to get to the point, I have a job offering for you and it involves my granddaughter, not I."

Kartik furrowed his eyebrows, managing to recall the young redhead he had witnessed bathing the night before. But she had looked much too young. Surely she wasn't the same girl this woman spoke of.

Kartik recalled the image of the girl as the once busy marketplace died down what with the sun almost vanishing beyond the horizon.

"She needs a chaperone; a guardian and I believe that you," Mrs. Doyle jabbed a pale finger against Kartik's exposed chest, "are the perfect choice."

Kartik threw back his head and let out a much needed laugh. When he was just about done, there were tears in his eyes and he wiped away at them with an amused sigh. Mrs. Doyle on the other hand, remained unchanged in both posture and demeanour.

"You are joking, right? That was a joke, correct?" Kartik was still laughing as he asked the ever complacent Mrs. Doyle.

"No, I am quite serious, Mr. Kartik. My granddaughter is known for her rather...unladylike behaviour. With your skills and attitude, I believe you just might frighten her and perhaps knock some sense into that girl." Mrs. Doyle stated matter-of-factly.

"So you aren't joking..." Kartik concluded, but it was more of a question than a statement.

Mrs. Doyle replied with a curt nod. Kartik ran his free hand through his hair and sighed in exasperation. She was offering him a free ticket into the Doyle household. This would make his job in the evenings much less tedious. Not to mention, he could uncover some true dirt on what really happened the night his father was murdered. And then there was the money...

"So you said something about being paid well for this...duty?" Kartik questioned while treading carefully.

Mrs. Doyle smiled a smile of victory, "In the beginning, you would be making about nine hundred rupees. That amount would increase if you last longer than three weeks."

Kartik stared at Mrs. Doyle questioningly, "Why three weeks?"

Mrs. Doyle's smile only seemed to grow, "Let's just say that hardly anyone has survived the two week mark with my rather precarious granddaughter."

"A challenge. Interesting." Kartik smiled mischievously, remembering every detail of her naked body.

"I suppose you can see it that way. Anyways, it is mandatory that if you are willing to do this that you start immediately." Mrs. Doyle was looking at Kartik sternly but Kartik only gave her a sheepish smile while scratching the back of his head.

"You drive a tough bargain, Mrs. Doyle." Kartik remarked.

"Yes, well. I am pressed for time, Mr. Kartik. I understand you may have to run this with your family?" Mrs. Doyle's eyes flashed to the disappearing sun.

"No. My family needn't know about all my affairs." Kartik's expression hardened.

"Hm. That's fine with me. So, is this all leading to a yes or have I been wasting my time, Mr. Kartik?"

Kartik smiled, "With such a tempting offer, how can I say no? When do I start?"

"Tomorrow will be your first day. But tonight, I want you to meet Gemma so that you understand just exactly what you're dealing with here." Mrs. Doyle put away her fan as the earth cooled.

Kartik eyed the sky, noting that the sun was almost entirely gone now and the moon was a shadow in the distance, ready to make its appearance. It was late and if he went to the Doyle household, by the time he got home, it would be even later.

"Do not worry about your travelling time. I will ensure you get a ride home. Now come along, shall we?" Mrs. Doyle was quick and Kartik was beginning to think she had the ability to read minds. Nonetheless, he followed her with a wide grin on his face, slightly sinister but meant to be genuine.

* * *

"Must you all leave so soon? What am I to do for the rest of the evening?" Gemma whined as her friends made their way down the stairs towards the main foyer of the Doyle household.

Tom was there, smiling like a buffoon, practically bouncing on his heels. Gemma wondered what on earth had gotten him so bloody excited while she brooded over being lonely and bored.

"Terribly sorry, Gemma dear but you know how it is. Mother will throw a hissy fit if I'm not home by the time she gets there." Felicity stated as she planted a kiss on each of Gemma's cheeks.

Ann and Pippa followed suit while Tom opened the door, still smiling like a little boy told he was going to the candy store. Gemma sent him a vicious glare but his expression did not waiver. As they exited, Felicity ignored Tom completely, hardly acknowledging his existence while Pippa gave him a polite curtsy before stepping out. It was Ann's behaviour that stunned Gemma.

"Th-thank you for allowing us to stay." Ann mustered, stuttering and not looking up into Tom's eyes. She curtsied politely and then dashed out the door, her cheeks flushed beet red.

"No...trouble at all?" Tom started but Ann had already vanished out of earshot by the time he had gotten to his second word.

He then turned his attention to Gemma, still looking perplexed. Gemma on the other hand had her arms folded across her chest and was tapping her foot in agitation.

"Just what exactly is the matter with you, Tom?!" She started, catching her brother off guard.

"What? What on earth are you talking about?!" Tom's eyes locked with Gemma's as he stared at her questioningly.

Gemma smirked and let out a nasty laugh, "Oh, do not even start! You cannot even pretend to act innocent! I saw the way you were looking at her! Dear God, Tom. She's my best friend! Is there any lady that you don't fancy?!" Gemma stormed off into the living room where she sat on the couch and picked up Pride and Prejudice for the second time that day.

Tom was hot on her heels, "I have no idea what you are talking about, Gemma! If anything, it's your friend that seems to fancy _me_!"

"Oh, please! Pippa hardly notices you! She's far too good for the likes of you, anyways." Gemma bitterly concluded as she angrily flipped through the novel's thin pages.

"Pippa?! Not her! It's the plain girl that seems to like me...what's her name?" Tom scratched his chin in thought.

Gemma slammed the book shut before spitting out, "Ann. Her bloody name is Ann, Tom! You can be such a...such a pig!"

Just as Gemma got up to go back to her room in a complete fury, there was a knock on the door. A maid was quick to answer, revealing a rather flushed looking Mrs. Doyle. Gemma stood still in the foyer, watching her come in with a smile on her face and fresh wrinkles around the edges of her mouth. Had she been...laughing?

"Grandmother...?" Gemma spoke softly, eyeing the older woman suspiciously.

Tom had waltzed into the foyer too at this point, wondering who it was that had come home at this hour. He then rolled his eyes upon seeing his grandmother and drifted sombrely back to the living room where he remained. Just as Gemma also lost interest, she spotted another figure walk inside the house from the corner of her eye. She was quick to turn her head to attention, bright red curls bouncing as she did so. Green eyes lingered on the man that was now standing in her house until they locked with his darker ones.

"Gemma, there is someone I'd like you to meet." Mrs. Doyle began, moving out of Kartik's way in order to reveal his entire figure.

Gemma watched him with scrutinizing eyes and all Kartik could think of was the curve of her perfect breast when he had seen her flesh the night before. Nonetheless, a smile fell upon his full lips when they looked at each other. A nervous sweat slicked down the side of Kartik's face; surely she didn't recognize him.

"This is Kartik. He has...come to apply for some work with us. Kartik, this is Ms. Gemma Doyle, my most precious granddaughter." Mrs. Doyle introduced the pair but Gemma's expression never changed; her lips slightly parted and her dark red brows furrowed in questioning.

Kartik gulped but his smile didn't vanish just yet; instead he took two long strides towards her and extended a tanned hand in greeting.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Doyle."

She stared at his hand like it was a foreign object that if touched could cause her to come down with a serious illness. Just as Kartik almost gave up his smile, his lips actually hurting, she hesitantly placed her soft, pale hand in his rough one. As he shook it lightly, she seemed utterly appalled by him in every way. Kartik let go and cleared his throat, turning to face a still happy Mrs. Doyle.

"Well then! Why don't we sit and discuss your...requirements, no? Gemma, you shall join us."

"I shall?" Gemma looked at her grandmother with bewildered green eyes. Kartik watched her every move, paying attention to all the fine details.

"Yes. You shall. Now come along! I'll have Rohit prepare us some tea." With that, Mrs. Doyle vanished into another room, calling out her servant's name as she went along.

Quiet filled the room and Kartik began to feel uneasy. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and admired his surroundings.

"You have a very nice house, Ms. Doyle." He commented while examining a large portrait of a woman who looked very much like Gemma herself.

He heard her footsteps lightly make their way towards him and he tensed up, his shoulders hunched in anticipation. Or perhaps he was just paranoid.

"Yes, thank you," She paused before looking at him again with those chilling eyes, "...Mr. Kartik."

His name came off her tongue like a poison and he felt that this Ms. Doyle was definitely not fond of him at all.

"Do I...know you from somewhere, Mr. Kartik? I could swear we've met before."

Her voice was low and soft as she came into his view, gently stroking the portrait's surface with a single finger. Kartik's eyes widened but he forced a laugh anyways.

"Not unless you spend your free time walking the markets in the poor district looking for some fresh fruit."

She did not laugh; she didn't even look at him. Instead she looked up at the painting and sighed. Kartik scratched at the collar of the new shirt Mrs. Doyle had bought and made him wear. The damn thing was making him itch like no tomorrow.

Before anymore words were exchanged, Mrs. Doyle reappeared, still looking absolutely chipper, "Alright, the tea should be on its way. Let's have a seat, shall we?"

Gemma seemed totally vexed by her grandmother's happy demeanour. Kartik only forced another smile as he followed her into the living room. Tom was lying about in the chair reading a philosophical book but immediately did a double take when he noticed Kartik entering the room. He stared at him with sharp blue eyes, never backing down. His fair eyebrows furrowed in a silent anger and Kartik got the feeling that he wasn't very welcome at the Doyle household.

"Oh, Mr. Kartik, that is Thomas Doyle, my ever genius grandson." Mrs. Doyle bragged but Tom only glared even when Kartik smiled and nodded politely in greeting.

They each took a seat, Mrs. Doyle and Gemma Doyle sitting straight across from Kartik while Tom sat on the other side.

"Well then, let's get to it. Gemma, I'd like to introduce you again to Kartik because the work he will be doing involves you." Mrs. Doyle started as she looked at Gemma with a loving expression.

Gemma on the other hand stiffened and her eyes went wide. She clutched the arms of the chair as she looked back and forth from her grandmother to Kartik.

"What do you mean by that?" She spoke softly but Kartik could see she was doing all she could to keep her demons at bay.

Mrs. Doyle sighed and then looked at Gemma in all seriousness. She then looked at Kartik with a similar expression and pointed her hand at him, "Mr. Kartik here is going to be your new chaperone."

Both Tom and Gemma were on their feet, no longer holding back their clear frustration. Kartik sat back in the chair, practically laughing in his head at the entire drama he was watching. The fighting started, everyone yelling atop another's voice to the point where Kartik could hardly even catch a few words since everything was so muddled. What he did understand were Tom's hateful glances, ones that threatened to kill. Gemma on the other hand didn't even acknowledge him as she spoke, like he wasn't even in the room at all. Alas, wasn't that always how the British viewed the Indians? Either way, Kartik concluded while eyeing Gemma like a predator; this was going to be extremely enjoyable.

* * *

**A/N: **_Yes, they finally meet. Oh how much fun I shall have torturing Gemma with Kartik's presence. Anyways, I just want to point out that whenever Kartik is speaking to another Indian, he IS speaking Hindi...so if anything confused you, maybe that helps. Look out for chapter six; plenty of Karma in there because, let's face it, now is when the fun begins. Comments? Questions? Critisicm? Feel free to give it :) Thanks for reading!_


	6. Careless

**The Pretender**

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**A/N: **_Chapter six is officially complete. Very sorry for keeping you all waiting but...this is what happens when school starts. I was able to update quicker before because I was on my break. So now you must bear with me! Thank you all for the reviews and for reviewing; it seriously makes my day every time I read one :) So here's another lengthy chapter as a thank you. Enjoy._

_Song: _Come Back to Me

_Artist: _Utada Hikaru

"_And in the end, I guess I had to fall. Always find my place among the ashes..."_~ Evanescence, Lithium

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**Careless**

Gemma woke up bright and early to the warm, Indian sun piercing through her window. Despite the strong ray of light, she persisted into sleep until her maid knocked on the door, announcing herself and purposefully making a ruckus to rouse the young girl.

"Ms. Doyle, it is time for you to wake up. Your grandmother wishes to have you downstairs, dressed and groomed, rather promptly. Do get up!" Her maid chided as she pulled the curtains even further apart to reveal more harsh sunlight.

Gemma cringed under her covers at the strength of the beams and whimpered in protest when her maid tried desperately to pull the thin blanket off of her. Eventually, Gemma gave up and immediately felt exposed as her night gown had hiked up a fair amount due to the heat during the night.

"Ms. Doyle!"

"Alright, alright! I'm up already."

Gemma sat up in bed and rubbed her temple in frustration as she tried to get a better view of everything around her. Her maid walked to the other side and opened the window, allowing some of the warm Indian air to fill the room.

As Gemma stood up and stifled a yawn, her maid was quick to pull out the corset and required dressings for the day. And that was when she heard it.

"Oi! Watch it!"

"Careful now!"

"What's with the rush?!"

The voices were coming from outside and the commotion only seemed to grow louder, as if it were heading directly towards the Doyle household. Both Gemma and her maid froze, looking at each other with equally confused and worried faces.

"So sorry! Please make way!" A male voice, unmarked by the English accent Gemma was all too familiar with.

Her green eyes widened as the realization hit her; but it couldn't be...could it? Her maid was quick to look out the window, head twitching from side to side and analyzing the streets of the Rich District. A few seconds later, she turned her attention back to Gemma and merely shook her head.

"It was probably a good for nothing thief getting away. But not to worry, dear; the guards will be sure to capture him." Her maid said with a hopeful smile.

Gemma laid out a quick fake smile to reassure the woman but her eyes continued to glance at the window in sheer paranoia. That was when he appeared, hopping over the window ledge, huffing and panting and completely unaware of where he was and what he was doing.

Gemma squealed and used her arms and hands to cover herself while her maid practically jumped out of her skin at the sudden sound and the appearance of the impostor. Kartik had been staring out the window, sweat covering his tanned skin and his breathing coming in rapidly. He had given his back to the room until Gemma's piercing shriek brought him back to reality. He jumped and turned around, dark eyes, wide and ready.

It was the vibrant hair that told him exactly where he was and what was going on. She had a look of pure horror and embarrassment on her face as her hands tried desperately to cover what he had already seen. However, the sheer satin of her night gown masked her body in a tortured way, leaving a man to see but not to see.

Yet Kartik did not have time to see much more for the maid came rushing at him, yelling madly while she continuously flanked him with a pillow. The impact came as a surprise and Kartik was completely taken aback by the sudden attack. He let out a muffled cry but his voice was covered by the maid's continuous efforts. Her attacks were followed with every single word she uttered and Kartik felt helpless to stop her. Although he wasn't in pain, he was beginning to grow agitated.

"How!"

Thump.

"Dare!"

Thump.

"You!"

Thump.

Kartik tried cowering further away from her but she only seemed to follow him with more rage than ever.

"Stop it! Ack! Stop, wom-Hey!" His cries were futile as his every blink met with the white fluffy cotton of the pillow.

Gemma, in the meantime, had been desperately searching for her robe and when she had found it, she threw it around her and quickly tied it up, desperate to hide herself from any prying eyes. That was when her bedroom door was thrown open and a very stern looking Mrs. Doyle stepped through followed by a ready to fight Thomas.

"Stop this, immediately!"

Upon hearing Mrs. Doyle frightfully loud voice, the maid finally ceased her rampage and looked at the elderly woman while she panted. Kartik took in a deep breath and snatched the pillow out of the maid's hand angrily, tossing it aside roughly. His hair was an absolute disaster and his little vest had practically come apart, leaving his shirt to sit on him in a slant. He huffed and puffed, his chest heaving up and down, more in held back anger then in tiredness. The maid pointed an accusing finger at him before beginning to explain.

"Mrs. Doyle! This young man! He-he climbed right into Ms. Doyle's bedroom! He's a peeping tom!" She argued, but Mrs. Doyle's expression didn't change.

Tom tried to move forward, pursing his lips in irritation and wrinkling his nose in anger, but Mrs. Doyle placed a delicate, gloved hand on his arm, giving him a look that immediately stopped him. She then turned her gaze back to Kartik while Tom groaned in his throat at the missed opportunity. Kartik continuously ran his hand through his now static dark curls, desperate to fix the damage.

"Mr. Kartik...is this true? Did you truly climb into Gemma's bedroom?" Mrs. Doyle's voice was soft but held an edge that got Kartik's attention instantly.

Kartik sighed and shot a glare at the maid before looking back at Mrs. Doyle with a smile, "Yes. I did climb into this room. But, I was not aware that this was Ms. Doyle's bedroom or that she was changing."

Mrs. Doyle quirked up an eyebrow in question, "Then why on earth did you find the need to jump in through a window? I do believe we have doors."

Kartik cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt and vest before looking Mrs. Doyle in the eyes, "Why not ask your guards? I do believe doors are made for proper human beings but perhaps your guards are in need of a lesson?"

Mrs. Doyle straightened out her back as well as adjusted her gaze and Kartik took this as his queue to continue, "Well, I suppose I could have let them have their way. I could have given them a fight, beaten them until they turned black and blue, showed up late for work and looked like a disaster. But I figured that wouldn't make me look so good on the first day, would it?"

"No. It wouldn't." It was all that Mrs. Doyle said before turning her attention back to a rather bewildered Gemma.

"Gemma, do hurry and get dressed. You have much to do for the day." Mrs. Doyle told her granddaughter who seemed to be caught off guard.

"As for you, Mr. Kartik...follow me downstairs where you shall wait until Gemma is ready." With that, Mrs. Doyle was out the door on her heel.

Tom did not leave until he gave Kartik a thorough glare and when he finally did, Kartik also made his way towards the exit. The whole way, he could feel her eyes watching him and it made his skin crawl.

* * *

"So, exactly what am I supposed to be doing today?" Kartik questioned as he tapped his foot on the marble floor.

"You are to be escorting Gemma and one of her friends to the shops. I would go myself but I have some business to attend to. Please do not fail." Mrs. Doyle looked at Kartik sternly as she said this.

Kartik smiled before replying, "How bad could a shopping trip be? You make it sound like I am entering a duel to the death."

To this, Mrs. Doyle smiled sinisterly and something about it gave Kartik the creeps.

"Do take care, Mr. Kartik. I hope to see you in the evening. But if I do not, it was definitely a pleasant encounter." And with that, Mrs. Doyle was gone, leaving Kartik to stare after her in confusion.

He stood still, staring at the floor and trying to work out the puzzle in his head. A voice brought his attention back to reality.

"Kartik, is it?" It was Tom.

Kartik smiled and dug his hands into his pockets. Tom returned the smile but Kartik knew it wasn't anywhere near genuine.

"Yes, that's my name." Kartik replied with a smile.

Tom sneered before making his way towards the Indian man until he was standing right next to him, "If anything happens to my sister, be prepared to face the consequences..."

His voice was low but Kartik heard him loud and clear.

"Should I be scared?" Kartik mocked.

"Oh, you definitely should be. I'll be rid of you soon enough, not to worry. But make any mistakes and you'll be playing right into my hand. Do you understand?" Tom's voice held a sharp venomous edge to it that sent a chill down Kartik's spine but he shrugged it off and laughed.

Kartik spotted Gemma making her way down the stairs with her maid right at her tail. She was looking rather upset but her clothing looked utterly uncomfortable and Kartik wondered how she was even breathing. Tom turned his attention to his younger sister who returned the greeting with a glare.

"Go away, Tom. Don't you have girls to chase or something?" Gemma started, not even looking her older brother in the eye.

"Now Gemma, what man wants a wife with a tongue as sharp as yours?" Tom chided, resulting in Gemma throwing him a penetrating stare that declared her unhappiness.

"Don't get all upset now, Gemma. Pippa is awaiting you outside in the carriage. She says to hurry." Tom finished, heading into the living area where he vanished.

Gemma glared after him before turning her attention to a bored Kartik. Her maid scurried off, leaving the two alone in the main foyer of the house. Kartik smiled and Gemma stared at him with curious jade eyes.

"Shall we leave, my lady? I believe if your friend waits any longer, she'll be most displeased with us." Kartik offered Gemma his hand and waited for her to take it.

Instead she looked at his hand and then at him before finally just walking past him.

"I believe I know how to walk without assistance, thank you." She said as she picked up her skirts and scurried out of the door, leaving Kartik in bewilderment.

He practically chased after her outside where a carriage indeed stood waiting. A guard opened the door and she entered with mild difficulty, her vibrant hair disappearing from view. Kartik followed, opening the door and hopping inside. Then he laid eyes on her. She was stunning; her beauty completely breathtaking. Long dark hair fell in ringlets down her back and cupped her opaque face. Her peculiar violet eyes stood out amongst her fair complexion and her sharp dark eyebrows accentuated the dangerous temptation that lurked in them.

For a moment, Kartik stood still, just staring with wide eyes, as if he couldn't tear his gaze away. Her small, pink lips set in a pout and her eyebrows furrowed when she noted that he was blocking the way.

"Gemma, why is a servant of yours standing in the way and staring like a fool? How unmannerly." Her voice was soft and delicate but the painful realization that hit Kartik was like a direct stab to the heart.

Gemma cleared her throat and averted her gaze from everyone, "Pippa...He isn't my servant. He's my new chaperon."

The beauty named Pippa turned to look at Kartik with wide eyes, yet again enchanting him. She then stared at Gemma who suddenly found interest in a loose string on her dress. Kartik finally snapped out of it and smiled, trying to push such unwanted thoughts out of his head.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Kartik." He offered his hand and Pippa very hesitantly placed her delicate hand in his, rather awkwardly.

After a quick shake she pulled it back as if a snake had bitten her. Kartik shrugged it off and took his seat next to Gemma who was still looking flustered. Pippa continued to take even turns at starring at Kartik and then at Gemma.

"Gemma, you cannot tell me that your grandmother hired a man to chaperon you! And an Indian at that! What on earth is she thinking?!"

Kartik seemed slightly taken aback at the fact that the girl was actually talking about him as if he wasn't even there. Gemma looked up to meet Pippa's eyes before nervously glancing at an agitated Kartik.

"Yes well, she was desperate since no one else wanted to take the job. Whatever you girls did, you've built quite a reputation. Congratulations." Kartik spat bitterly as the carriage began to move, the trotting of the animals causing the ride to be wobbly.

"Excuse me?" Pippa cried, shock registering on her face.

"You bloody well heard me." Kartik said with a vicious smile on his face.

"Gemma!" Pippa stared at her friend with pleading eyes.

"Look, I don't know who you think you are but you better watch it. No one is exactly pleased about your presence so it's only a matter of time before you're gone. You might as well just go away and let us go about our business. You'll still get paid and I'll even lie to my grandmother for you. Just stay out of my way." Gemma spoke, amazingly snapping out of her rather quiet demeanour.

For a moment, Kartik stared at her in shock, wondering how she had so suddenly managed to find her voice around him. Then he laughed; at first slowly and then he broke out into a full hearty laughing fit. Gemma and Pippa both stared at him with curious expressions.

"Are you threatening me, Ms. Doyle?" Kartik said through a random fit of giggles.

Gemma's expression did not change when she spoke, "I am warning you, Mr. Kartik. I've gotten rid of many before you. What makes you think I won't be able to do the same to you?"

She was challenging him, her chin tilted slightly upwards and her gaze ever so belittling. Pippa smirked successfully and she crossed her arms over her well endowed chest in victory. Kartik's smile never vanished; he continued to stare Gemma down.

"Because, Ms. Doyle, " Kartik started as he slipped his fingers around a stray lock of crimson hair and tucked it behind Gemma's ear, "you do not know me very well. And that will be my advantage in my mission to successfully tame you."

Pippa's mouth dropped; both at Kartik's words and at his inappropriate gesture. Gemma's expression paled, clearly not knowing what to do; slap him or come up with a smart remark and then slap him. She opted for the slap, but Kartik's reflexes were quicker. He caught her wrist in his firm grip just inches away from his face. His fingers encased her wrist so tightly, she could feel them dig into her skin and cut off the circulation going to her hand. Gemma winced in pain and Pippa gasped, her hands clasped on her mouth.

After a few seconds of watching Gemma squirm under his strength, Kartik let go of her wrist and she immediately withdrew her arm, nursing it against her bosom. Kartik sighed and looked out the window as if nothing had even happened.

"How dare you! My grandmother shall be informed about this!" Gemma desperately argued, hate rising from the pits of her stomach.

"Oh, will you? Go ahead. I'll gladly let her know about your little warning, as you put it." Kartik snapped back, allowing his agitation to show.

"Hah! She won't believe you! She'd obviously believe me!" Gemma spoke triumphantly, grinning like a winner.

Kartik smirked deviously, "You'd be surprised. Seeing as how she is already aware of your behavior patterns, I don't think she'd find it too difficult to believe that you'd threaten me in order to get your way. As for what I did, she is fully aware of my capabilities and she still hired me. I am not an Englishman, so don't expect the same courtesy from me, Ms. Doyle. Your grandmother didn't."

Gemma searched for the words to rebuttal but lost her chance and instead, her mouth hung open in a symbol of defeat. The rest of the ride continued in silence.

* * *

Kartik was angry. No, he was absolutely furious. So angry in fact, he questioned why he even accepted such a ridiculous job. Although he wasn't keen on harming women, it wasn't something he'd object to if it was necessary and assassinating Gemma Doyle seemed absolutely necessary at this point. He stared daggers into her back as she walked ahead of him with her friend, arms linked. Occasionally, they would stop and examine a stall and pick something up. Kartik was getting bored of kicking stones and following them with no purpose whatsoever.

Occasionally, one girl would turn her head to look at him and then turn around again. Damn them if they tried to be discreet. Kartik also noted that many of the English who lived in the Rich District were giving him odd looks as he followed around a pair of the richest girls in town. He was almost tempted to challenge them just for some mild entertainment. But he thought better of it.

"Oh, Mr. Kartik! You wouldn't mind to carry some of these items for us, would you?" It was Pippa's soft voice that pleaded with him.

Kartik gazed at her, noting that she was using her full charm on him...and it was working. He sighed but nodded curtly as the girls happily dumped their bags into his arms.

"We need to use the ladies room rather quickly! A bit of an emergency. You don't mind do you? We'll be back!" Pippa chirped sweetly while looking up at Kartik with violet eyes.

"You don't mind waiting do you?" Gemma added in, also trying to play off as charming and innocent.

Kartik smirked and nodded, "Make it quick. If you aren't back in ten minutes...I'll find you."

He stared at Gemma when he said this. She simply smiled at him rather sweetly and he almost fell for it but not quite. The girls dashed off but Kartik's ever observant eyes never stopped trailing them. After they were out of sight, he ran back to the carriage and dumped the items inside. Afterwards, Kartik was quick on their heels; they must have thought him a moron and he was glad for the chance to show off his skill. He'd teach Gemma Doyle a lesson she wouldn't easily forget.

He knew that this wasn't going to help his objective any but eventually, he knew he'd win her over. For now though, he'd have his fun.

* * *

Pippa and Gemma ran like they never ran before, their skirts practically sweeping up the dirt floor as they went. They giggled the whole way, stopping when they reached a small alleyway to catch their breath and laugh.

"I cannot believe he believed us! What a fool!" Pippa laughed.

"Who does he think he is?! This will teach him a lesson!" Gemma said through heavy breaths.

"Let's keep going! You wouldn't want to keep prince charming waiting, now would you?" Pippa joked, causing Gemma to flush red.

Together they walked into the alleyway, Gemma fixing her hair and Pippa fixing her dress.

"What about you, Pip? Where are you going?" Gemma questioned.

"Oh, don't worry! I just need to pick something up from the bookstore for my mother. I'll be back in ten minutes, so don't let me catch you two!" Pippa giggled before dashing off until she disappeared behind a wall.

"Don't you know it's unsafe for young ladies to be walking in alleyways all alone?"

The voice was familiar but still took Gemma by complete surprise. She gasped and turned around, practically jumping out of her skin. Simon stood in front of her smiling the same smile that had enchanted her the first time. His brown hair was messy and ruffled, making him appear all the more handsome. He came in closer and Gemma found herself relaxing into him.

She found a smile playing among her lips when his own were a mere few inches away from hers, his warm breath tingling against her skin. She laid her slender arms on his shoulders as his hands traveled to her waist. The kiss was soft at first but quickly became needy and hungry. Gemma enjoyed the feel of his soft mouth working against her own. He used his grip on her waist to draw her body closer to his. She moaned into his mouth at the sudden contact. Both were sweating profusely, but neither wanted to draw apart, much too transfixed by one another to even try.

Simon then moved them so that Gemma was pushed up against the wall, their lips parting for a brief moment before his came crashing back down onto hers desperately. Her fingers tangled in his hair and his lips trailed her bottom lip, her chin, her jaw line, her neck and then the bottom of her soft, delicate ear. From there he made his way down to the nape of her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. She closed her eyes and moaned as the feeling manifested deep down in her belly, tightening and asking for more.

"I didn't realize men were allowed in a ladies room. Well this must be convenient." Kartik's mocking voice drove the two apart quicker than they had come together.

Both lay against opposite walls, panting as they stared at the impostor. Kartik laughed and upon witnessing Gemma's rather livid expression, laughed even harder. Simon straightened himself out and looked at Gemma questioningly.

"Well now, if you are done, I believe we need to be heading back to the market. There is still much shopping to be done. Where is your friend?" Kartik questioned as he grabbed a hold of Gemma's arm.

"Ow! Let me go!" Gemma argued, trying to pull free of his grip, but failing miserably.

"Now, now. Don't make me pick you up. That wouldn't be very fun, now would it? I'd become tired quicker and you'd be embarrassed, so let's not go that way."

Gemma felt an urge to hit him so hard and decided she'd go for his weak spot; her foot met with the delicate spot between his legs. Kartik immediately let go of her arm and fell to the ground on his knees, clutching his stomach in pain. His eyes widened and he bent his head as the pain rang through his entire body. Gemma took this as her chance to get away. Grabbing Simon's hand, she made a mad dash for it, not looking back for even a second.

Corner after corner, she dragged a very bewildered Simon after her, unsure of exactly where she was going. All she knew was that she needed to lose Kartik. Simon was panting heavily and seemed even more confused than Gemma.

"Gemma! Wait! Stop!" Simon stopped running, causing Gemma to halt as well. Both bent down and took in deep breaths.

"Where are on earth are we going?" Simon questioned, wiping the sweat that was building on his forehead.

"Just keep running! We need to get away from him!" Gemma argued, taking Simon's hand yet again.

"Who is he, Gemma?!" Simon questioned, pulling his hand back enough to stop Gemma from running off.

Gemma froze, her mouth open but at a loss for words. She looked away, unable to meet Simon's gaze.

"Well, look at the lambs that decided to wander into the lion's den." The Hindi being spoken by a rough male voice, drew both Simon and Gemma's attention away.

Looking around her, Gemma finally took in her surroundings. They had made it to the back alley where the Rich District connected with the poor District. The man who spoke was a big Indian man, at least thirty five years old and weighing about two hundred pounds. He practically towered over Gemma. Two other men joined him at both sides, one skinnier than the other.

Their faces were normal enough, but it was the unique styles of dark facial hair that truly made them stand out; that and the fact that each one had a knife tucked away in their pocket. Gemma backed up into Simon who also seemed to be afraid. The men drew closer and Simon took Gemma's hand.

"We are only passing by. We didn't know where we were going." Gemma tried to explain in her rather poor Hindi.

The men looked at each other and then back at her, confusion easily readable on their faces.

"The girl is rather pretty. The boy can go." The taller, skinnier man spoke as he eyed Gemma with a hunter's gaze.

"No!" Gemma cried desperately.

Quickly she tried to think, but how on earth was she going to take out three men with knives? She pulled out her pouch of money and dangled it in front of them.

"Let us go and I'll pay you rather handsomely." She attempted again in broken Hindi.

The men examined the pouch curiously before a laugh distracted them. Gemma turned to see Kartik standing a little bit away from her, panting and still wincing from her previous attack.

"Foolish girl, they don't want your money." Kartik spoke, his eyes never leaving the three men who were staring at him suspiciously.

"Kartik! Leave us be! This is our prey. Get your own!" The heavier set man retorted, drawing his dagger and pointing it at Kartik.

"Relax now! Ms. Doyle, give them your earrings." Kartik spoke, still crouching, clearly still in pain.

"What?! Why?!" Gemma argued, glaring at Kartik.

Kartik rolled his eyes and Simon almost yelped as the men drew nearer.

"Just do it!" Kartik insisted.

Hastily, Gemma removed her earrings and offered them to the man with shaky hands. He stared at them, his aggression slightly disappearing. Picking them both up with chubby fingers, he examined them carefully. Pearls; they were Gemma's favourite pair. They were also super expensive.

Gemma watched with curiosity as the men withdrew, allowing her and Simon to breathe a little easier. She looked at Kartik only to see him smirking despite the pain he was in.

"Satisfied? Can they go now?" Kartik questioned in Hindi.

"Yeah, yeah. They can go." The man spoke dismissively as him and the others gathered around the pearls.

"Kartik! Priya wants us to send you a message..."

Kartik paused and stared with sudden alertness while Gemma drew in a deep breath of relief.

"What?" Kartik questioned curiously.

The burly man walked right up to Kartik and threw a heavy punch right into his face, causing him to fly down to the floor. Gemma gasped and Simon flinched while the man just laughed.

"That's for being a pain in Puja's side. Next time, I'll hit harder." The man turned his back and went back to the glimmering pearl earrings that Gemma had given over moments before.

Kartik sat up and rubbed his face agonizingly. His lip was bleeding and his nose became the Nile River of blood. But it wasn't broken; he'd manage. Standing up, he pinched his nose in the air and gestured for Gemma to follow him.

* * *

Gemma walked with Kartik in silence when they reunited with Pippa at the bookstore. She practically broke out into shock upon seeing Kartik's bloody face. Simon had left with a quick goodbye kiss and no words exchanged. But Gemma hadn't missed his instant dislike for Kartik when he had discovered that he was to be her new chaperon. Kartik was still walking with a bit of a limp.

"What happened?! Where did you go? Why is he bleeding?! Oh dear! He's got blood all over his clothes! Gemma! He can't sit in my carriage!"

Pippa's cries went unheeded and all Kartik managed to do was make gestures; this time he was gesturing for them to just be quiet and get in. The entire ride was also silent but Pippa never stopped giving nervous glances between Gemma and Kartik. Gemma signaled to her that she would explain it all later.

When they arrived at the Doyle household, Kartik had realized his nose was no longer bleeding as much but he was still in pain elsewhere. Part of him wished that he had just left her in that alleyway. The worst that would have happened to her anyways was being stripped....and possibly walking home naked. He concluded that wasn't strong enough of a punishment for what Gemma Doyle had done.

All three walked into the house where madness ensued upon the sight of Kartik's beaten and swollen face. Mrs. Doyle covered her mouth in shock and the servants were quickly ordered to get some ice. Mrs. Doyle tried interrogating Kartik but he refused to speak until the pain was no longer bothering him.

"What in the heavens happened to you?! Gemma! Get in here, now!" Kartik sat on the couch and rested his head over the top so that he was staring at the ceiling.

"Yes?" Gemma replied curtly as she walked into the living room.

"What happened to Mr. Kartik?!" Mrs. Doyle asked sternly.

"I...umm...Well, it's a long story actually. Mr. Kartik here was defending me. You see, a rather unmannerly man said some inappropriate things to me and Mr. Kartik did not let it go unnoticed. Upon confronting the man, he attacked and...hurt him." Gemma concluded, looking at Kartik for approval of her little story.

"Oh. Is that what happened? Mr. Kartik, is she telling the truth?" Mrs. Doyle looked at Kartik with raised brows, as if she knew her granddaughter was lying and just needed a sure confirmation.

Kartik looked at Gemma who seemed to be pleading with him with apologetic eyes. Kartik thought it over in his head; he could get her in deep trouble and get revenge for what she had done. She would suffer indeed, become locked in the house, and not allowed to see that English boy. She'd hate his guts and he'd be victorious with an easy job. It flashed in his mind like a happy image and he found himself smiling absent-mindedly.

"Mr. Kartik?" Mrs. Doyle's voice brought him back from his daydream.

"Huh? Oh......" Kartik said with a smirk, ready to let her have it.

"What is with all this noise?" A deep English voice shattered the tension in the room.

Mr. Doyle strolled into the living room, looking rather agitated and half way in his sleep. Kartik looked at him and froze up. A quick flash of his father's corpse lying in the mud, buried by rain made its way in his head. Kartik's jaw tightened and he found himself yet again focusing on his main objective. If he was to keep this job, he'd have to suck it up and deal with the spoiled girl.

"Yes. That's exactly how it happened." Kartik confirmed, drawing back everyone's attention.

Mr. Doyle looked at Kartik as if he was examining him and then he smiled after a few moments.

"Ah! You must be Gemma's new chaperon! A pleasure to meet you, young sir. I am her father." Mr. Doyle greeted Kartik.

He looked at him again, studying his features carefully for he had to because last time, he hadn't noticed him well enough. Because the last time Kartik saw Mr. Doyle, he hadn't been aware that he had been the reason for his father's death...

* * *

**A/N: **_It is so unbelievably late! I haven't slept a wink yet just so I can finish this and post it for you guys. So reviews would be GREATLY appreciated. Nice to know if all my hard work paid off. For now, don't mind any errors in the story...too tired to check it but I will after some sleep. Until then, enjoy! _


	7. Energy

**The Pretender**

**

* * *

****A/N: **_It's been quite a while, hasn't it? This is what school does to me. Thanks for the reviews and comments! I love reading all of them and I promise to try and reply to everyone. Anyways, here's a lengthy chapter seven for you all._

_Song: _I did it for love

_Artist: _BoA

"_I'm strong, baby~" _Big Bang, Strong Baby

* * *

**Energy**

Kartik's mother paced the living room, frantically throwing her arms up into the air and yelling out random things in Hindi that Kartik was too pissed to pick up on. He stared blankly ahead, his pupils half masked by heavy lids and long lashes. He was holding some cold fluid in a bag to his nose and the water ran down his strong, rough hands and to his elbows, where droplets dangled and plopped onto his clothes. Amar was leaning against the wall with arms crossed along his buff chest, staring sternly with piercing dark eyes under furrowed brows. Kartik blinked, his lips slightly parted as he finally zoned back into reality.

"How irresponsible of you! I cannot believe your behaviour! You deserved that injury! Have your eyes gone bad, Kartik?! Priya is the most beautiful girl in the entire village and here you are insulting her family and for an English whore! I cannot believe you! What am I going to say to her father?! I could kill you!"

Kartik sighed, his eyelids fell closed and his grip loosened on the bag of liquid in his hand. Amar whacked the back of Kartik's head so hard; it jolted him back to his senses. Kartik glared at his older brother who returned the look.

"That's it! I'm sick of looking at you! Get lost to your room before I bring the broom back and beat you to death! Get out of my sight!" Kartik's mother yelled as her breathing came in deep and ragged.

Kartik stared at her with puppy dog eyes, tired beyond belief. Amar nudged him hard across the shoulder as a sign for him to move. Kartik flinched and out of anger, found enough energy to swing back his arm at Amar. His older brother leaned back quickly but it was a narrow miss. Then, grudgingly, Kartik stood up, almost wobbling and began to drag his feet out of the room, his head kept down and his unruly curls obscuring most of his face.

When he reached his bedroom, he closed the door and stripped out of his shirt and pants, remaining in only his undergarments. He sat on the edge of his bed and tilted his head back, hesitantly removing the cool liquid from his nose. He then placed it on his groin and let out a loud groan. It was still hurting him more than he had been letting on. His nose tingled with mild jolts of pain but his groin and entire abdomen was crying for mercy. He leaned back on his arms and took in deep breaths. Amar walked into the room, slowly closing the door behind him before examining his little brother in distress.

Amar was quick to the point, "Kartik...what in the hell were you doing with an English girl?!"

Kartik responded by adjusting the cool, melting liquid on his crotch to a different position. Amar grunted in agitation before slamming his fist into the wall.

"Damn it, Kartik! Answer me!"

Kartik opened an eye and glanced at his brother through flashes of pain. He then let out a long and heavy sigh while Amar grew more and more impatient.

"I do not wish to discuss it, brother." Kartik almost whispered in a husky tone.

Amar's eyes widened in anger but shortly after, his expression relaxed and a cunning smiled played itself among his lips, "Very well. If you do not tell me, you can forget about training."

Kartik shot his head in Amar's direction, dark eyes widened underneath dark brows. Then he chuckled, as much as his abdomen let him before the pain returned.

"Fine. I got a job at the Doyle household as a servant. The chaperon of the girl was sick and so they sent me to help them carry the bags from their shopping adventures. When she disappeared, everyone was worried. So I had to go find her and that was when she had run into Raj and his gang." Kartik finished explaining, knowing very well how he had twisted the truth.

"A bloody servant, Kartik?!" Amar shouted accusingly.

"Hey! They are paying me very well. They offered me twice what that fool, Khan offered us." Kartik defended.

"I thought you detested the English! Now you're working for them?! You even went as far as to save one of their spoiled little brats and insult one of your own?! Have you forgotten that they are the ones who killed father? Did you forget about all of that?!" Amar was fuming now, his broad shoulders shaking with every breath he took.

Kartik stared at Amar with a bored expression, but his emotions welled up inside of him.

"I have not forgotten, brother. I never will forget. But I also cannot forget that her father had saved me, too. I was simply returning the favour." Kartik stated bluntly.

"That man is the one who murdered our father! You owe him nothing!" Amar's voice rose to a dangerous level. Kartik did not flinch.

"You never did explain to me how he killed father. How can I even be sure you are telling me the truth?" Kartik announced, the doubt in the back of his mind surfacing like a serpent ready to pounce.

"Kartik, I am not lying! How can you even accuse me of something like that?!" Amar fought back, desperation evident in his brown orbs.

"Then tell me the entire story. I want to know." Kartik spoke softly, looking at his brother with deep affection.

Amar sighed but took a seat next to Kartik and ran a hand through his long, straight black hair. Kartik's eyes never left him.

"You really want to know?" Amar questioned.

Kartik simply nodded and Amar closed his eyes before beginning, "Father delivered fresh fruit, vegetables and other goods to the Doyles for years. So, he had become rather good friends with the family. I'm sure you know that the mother has passed away." Amar looked at Kartik for an answer.

"I suppose I figured that out." Kartik answered, still looking at his brother for more.

"Yes, well...at the time, she was still alive. She was extremely kind to father. Always giving him gifts to give to us and to mother. So when she became ill, father was deeply concerned. She had always been so healthy and lively. It didn't make sense that she would get sick so severely at such a young age, and with such a young daughter who still relied on her." Amar paused, staring at nothing, perhaps because he was too ashamed to allow any tears to spill.

Kartik remained stoic, still not satisfied with Amar's story.

"So father would always inquire about her. He would make extra visits, bringing herbal medicines and tea to help her get better. But, it was a battle that could not be won. Eventually, her disease killed her."

"Of course, everyone in the family became distraught. Mr. Doyle became severely depressed, he was the one it affected most. It was then that he noticed a valuable relic that belonged to her was missing. She had worn it as a necklace, something that Mr. Doyle considered to be part of his wife. The entire house was brought down in search of the relic but it didn't turn up. And so, the desperate man came to the conclusion that it had been stolen."

Amar paused again, his eyes watering but still not moving. Kartik only waited patiently, his hands gripping the bed sheets tighter as he braced himself for what was coming.

"...The guards were all questioned. But when it came down to it, father was the one who spent the most time with her. The fact that he was a filthy Indian didn't help his case much. So they...they tortured him. Of course, they found nothing. So they were forced to let him go. But Mr. Doyle would not rest until his wife's death was brought to justice. He had father assassinated that night."

Kartik could feel his fingernails digging into his palm through the thin sheet he was clutching. His teeth clenched and a familiar anger raged inside of him as he swallowed the full story. He was so angry, even the pain his body was experiencing physically seemed miles away. His heart pounded against his ribcage at a critical rate. But Amar did not take notice of any of this. He simply buried his head in his hands so his younger brother would not watch the tears fall.

"Does mother know?" Kartik managed to speak, but his voice came out strained, the rage not easily hidden.

Amar nodded before wiping away the tears and standing up, giving Kartik his back.

"How do you know all of this, Amar?" Kartik asked, eyes glaring venomously at his bed, trying to remain focused.

"As a soldier, I had connections. Mother told me bits and pieces here and there. I simply pieced it all together." Amar's voice was empty, void of everything.

"Kartik...be wary of that family. If anything happens to you..." Amar's fists clenched tightly and then he disappeared out of the room, leaving Kartik to his tortured mind.

Kartik lay back on the bed, covering only his legs with the blanket. He rested his strong arms underneath his head of messy dark curls. His naked torso remained exposed to the warm air in his room. His eyes remained focused on the ceiling. He could not sleep. He would not sleep. He knew if he did, those nightmares would return and give him a restless night. Tomorrow, he would find out more about this relic. If it really existed, he would find it and he would steal it.

Still feeling rather vengeful, he longed to take the most important thing away from Mr. Doyle. He longed to make him feel the pain and agony he had put him through. He'd discover his weakness and enjoy destroying it, corrupting it beyond belief. Rage was replaced with excitement. Kartik finally drifted off into a series of endless nightmares...

* * *

It was an intensely hot afternoon in the village. Gemma was desperately fanning herself but it did nothing to ease her anxiety. It had been days now that she was practically imprisoned in her own home. Kartik had been showing up early and leaving late every day. He had gone from being her chaperon to a mercenary; he would be given numerous odd jobs to complete. Lately, he was helping the men her grandmother hired to build the new section of her home. As if the house wasn't big enough.

Although Gemma was grateful for having to see very little of Kartik, it also would mean that she could not go anywhere since her chaperon was unavailable. She could not decide between what was a worse fate. What she did know was that her heart was pining after Simon; she hadn't seen him since the marketplace incident. Her friends would come over every so often but, sometimes she found herself tired of their company.

"Gemma, what are you doing out there?! The men are busy building and here you are distracting them!" It was Mrs. Doyle who had brought Gemma back to her unpleasant reality.

Some of the builders had been eyeing her and she found herself enjoying their attention. But it was Kartik she was watching; he had removed his shirt despite the protests he received from the others. He had concluded that if he didn't get to work his way, he wouldn't work at all.

The men were unpleased about staring at his naked, toned body but Kartik seemed to be laughing at them the whole time. There was something sadistic about his humour.

"Gemma, are you not listening to me? Get in here! Your father wishes to speak with you." Mrs. Doyle was desperately fanning herself before turning around in a huff of rage at her ignorant granddaughter.

Before Gemma headed inside, she glanced back at the workers only to spot that one of them had paused and was staring at her intently. The gleam of sweat-covered tanned skin under bright sunlight proved it to be Kartik. His gaze was not like the other men; it was penetrating and analyzing. Almost unpleasant. She could still feel his piercing leer on her back as she walked inside the house.

"Ah, pet. Do come with me, I have some interesting news to give you." Mr. Doyle greeted his daughter with a happy smile.

Gemma, now curious, followed behind her father's step. They were once again in his office and Gemma took her seat opposite her father. He lit up his pipe and took a few puffs before looking at her adoringly.

"You have truly blossomed into a lovely woman...You remind me so much of her." Mr. Doyle started with a half broken smile.

Gemma tried to smile back but found it difficult when her mind wandered back to her mother. So instead, she examined her ever tight corset for nonexistent flaws.

"Gemma...how have you been?" Mr. Doyle questioned, taking another puff from his pipe afterwards.

Gemma's head shot up and she forced a smile while placing a persistent lock of red hair behind her ear.

"I've been...bored, actually. When is Kartik going to finish up with the building?" Gemma inquired desperately with pleading green eyes.

Mr. Doyle seemed taken aback by his daughter's response. But then he chuckled and brought the pipe up to his lips yet again.

"You can ask Mr. Kartik to escort you wherever you like whenever you please. You are, of course, his priority. Didn't your grandmother tell you this?" Mr. Doyle stated.

Gemma's jaw dropped; had she known that, she would have been seeing Simon more often.

"No." Gemma spoke begrudgingly.

Gemma concluded that she hated her grandmother.

"Besides that, how are you?" Mr. Doyle questioned again.

"Fine, I suppose." Gemma retorted in a hardly audible whisper.

Mr. Doyle sat up in his chair and leaned in so that he could stare at his daughter better. He wore a smile of glee as he did so and Gemma felt like she was a child again. He signalled for her to lean in as well and she obliged with a wide grin.

"You have behaved yourself very well, young lady. And so I figured I must stick to my word. Let me tell you a little secret that you must not say to anyone."

Gemma's heart sped its beating as she anticipated the good news. She felt giddy all over and she leaned in closer to hear her father's whisper.

"Well...I pulled a few strings and managed to invite a certain family over for a little party."

Gemma gasped almost immediately, pushing back her chair in extreme dramatic shock. She stared at her father with bewildered jade eyes and for the first time in a while, she felt pure happiness. Her father chuckled as he sat back up in his chair.

"The Middleton's have accepted the invitation. I suggest you go buy yourself a fine dress for the evening as well as some lovely jewellery."

Gemma practically jumped out of her seat, a wide grin plastering her face as she clasped her hands together and stared at her father in the most affectionate way.

"Thank you so much, father!" She exclaimed with glee before bouncing out of the room, Mr. Doyle still chuckling with his pipe in his mouth.

In her delight, Gemma dashed outdoors to where the men were working, quite boldly. She even pushed past most of them, causing them to give her odd stares, some of them devious and lecherous. But she paid no mind to them; instead she paused, panting in front of the young Indian man who was more than bewildered to see her.

She took in deep and heavy breaths while Kartik stopped his work to stare at her curiously. The men watched them cautiously and Kartik became slightly nervous under their scrutinizing gazes. Gemma finally met his look with shining green eyes, her face flushed and her freckled cheeks alive with colour.

"Get dressed. I will not stay another minute in this house watching and waiting for you." Gemma finally managed to speak, her breathing still slightly laboured.

Kartik scratched the back of his head and looked around at the men who seemed to pause and await his response. They were glaring at him and Kartik stuttered for an answer. But Gemma did not wait for it; she boldly grabbed his hand and dragged him with her, a rather stunning and inappropriate scene to all who were watching.

Even Kartik was taken aback. He stumbled after her, shocked at her sudden surge of strength. They passed by stunned maids and servants as well as some angry looking guards. Gemma dragged Kartik through everybody until she reached the front door of the house. She finally turned to examine him; he was still without a shirt and perhaps this was why he was receiving many disgusted looks.

"Don't you have something to wear?" Gemma said softly, her face still flushed and her red hair frivolous because of the heat.

Kartik looked at himself and then back at her, shrugging. Gemma sighed exasperatedly. She politely asked a servant standing nearby to bring a shirt that would fit Kartik and to make it quick because she was late for an important date. All the while, Kartik stared at her with an amused smile on his face. Sweat was still trickling down his body and he smelled of a mixture of hard labour and grass.

"What exactly is this important date?" Kartik inquired, still looking smug.

"Don't worry. Your job is to just follow along." Gemma said with a smile, her happy bubble still encasing her.

Kartik let out a loud laugh that echoed in the foyer. The servant finally showed up with a tacky looking white shirt for Kartik. He looked at it with much distaste. Gemma used her eyes to indicate that he was to wear it. Kartik sighed and pulled it on, hating how he looked in it.

"There. Now, let's get going." Gemma squealed.

* * *

The ride was quiet but Kartik noticed just how much Gemma was smiling to herself. Her eyes were glazed over in a daydream manner. Sometimes, he'd find her staring at him like that but he'd quickly realize she was staring right through him instead.

"Do you plan on letting me know exactly where we're going?" Kartik asked, stretching comfortably across the seat in the carriage.

Gemma smiled sweetly, "No."

Kartik laughed, "What has put you in such a good mood, I wonder?"

Gemma was feeling rather smug, "Well, if you must know, my father has invited Simon to the dinner party grandmother is throwing. As soon as everything is established for me, you will be out of a job. I'll be sure of that."

Kartik's smile faltered a little, "So that weak little boy is coming to a party and I'm going to lose a job? I think you're still underestimating me, Ms. Doyle."

Gemma's smile stayed intact, unmoved by Kartik's intense and intimidating aura. His expression almost looked evil. There was something else lurking behind those large, endearing eyes.

"You know, that little hero of yours hasn't made an appearance in quite a while. Is that what is upsetting you?" Gemma remarked, changing the subject effectively.

Kartik was caught off guard; he stared at her inquisitively before prompting, "What hero? I have no hero. He died when I was a child." It was a bitter response and Gemma looked up at him with wide eyes.

Kartik looked angry and Gemma chewed her bottom lip nervously. His mood swings were beginning to frighten her.

"That thief that had the nerve of sneaking in when I was bathing. Some say he died." Gemma said with an awful hatred in her tone.

Kartik looked at Gemma suddenly, and his eyes glazed over. He remembered her nakedness and felt that guilty lusting sprout from his core.

"I do not care for that man." Kartik spoke at last, averting his gaze to the window.

"So then, who was your hero, may I ask?" Gemma inquired, still curious about his previous statement.

"...My father." Kartik replied weakly, still gazing out the window.

The tension rose and Gemma began fiddling with the beads on her gown, "Oh...my deepest condolences."

She didn't understand why she was apologizing. Perhaps it was because she too understood what it felt like to lose a parent at a young age.

"Don't lie..." Kartik replied bitterly.

"You aren't sorry. Far from it. Never mind, forget I even mentioned it."

The rest of the ride was silent but it seemed Gemma's bubble was completely impenetrable.

* * *

"Where are we?" Kartik asked as they exited the carriage and his view was met with yet another huge house that looked much like Gemma's own.

"This is where Ann lives with Mrs. Nightwing." Gemma stated as she picked up her skirts and walked towards the entrance.

Kartik followed but not without first gazing astonishingly at the lavish home. The butler answered the door and disappeared back inside to formally introduce Gemma to the house owners. When they entered, Kartik found some of the most antique paintings decorating the walls. Famous antiques decorated every inch of the house.

Ann greeted Gemma with a brave hug and the two lightly kissed each other's cheeks. Kartik stared at Ann curiously; she wasn't anywhere near as attractive as Pippa and she was a little plumper than a girl should be at her age. She was also examining him with those dull eyes and she seemed to be in complete shock. Either that or she was afraid of scary Indian men.

"Gemma! Is that..." Ann inquired in a whisper that Kartik still heard.

"Yes, but that is not what I want to discuss. I have other matters I must tell you of!" Gemma giddily responded, practically waving off Kartik like an old story that was no longer interesting.

They all stepped into the living room where an older woman sat in a chair by the fireplace with a glass of an alcoholic beverage and a book to read. She looked up at her guests with a small smile. Gemma curtsied in front of the lady before greeting her formally.

"Gemma, dear. How have you been? How is your father?"

"I've been great. My father is well...himself, I suppose." Gemma replied before asking for permission to wander off, with Ann in tow.

As the girls disappeared, Kartik found himself alone in the room with the older lady. He didn't know exactly what to do with himself. He smiled at the lady but she didn't really return the gesture.

"If you like, Ms. Foster here will escort you to the library." Mrs. Nightwing spoke dismissively, returning to her drink and her book.

Kartik looked around the room curiously, wondering who, or where, this lady was. He almost fell backwards when he came face to face with a slender woman with long black hair and thick eyebrows. Her expression was empty and Kartik wondered if he was going to leave the house alive.

"Please, follow me." She beckoned before turning her back and disappearing out of the living room.

Hesitantly, Kartik followed the lady in silence. He could still hear the faint giggling of Gemma and her friend.

"Quite a lovely home, you have." Kartik commented for the sake of conversation.

"Yes." She replied, still not turning to face Kartik.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they arrived at the expansive library. There were shelves upon shelves of endless books. Kartik admired the selection. It was times like this, he was glad he had learned how to read in English.

"I assume you know how to read?" Ms. Foster inquired with a quirked up eyebrow.

"Yes, I do." Kartik responded as he wandered into the room, delicately examining the binds of all the books.

"Well, then. I'll leave you to it." With that, the lady vanished and Kartik felt a shudder run down his spine.

Brushing it off, he began to search through the books, picking out things such as _The Iliad _and_ The Odyssey, _both by Homer. He picked out a number of other books with curiosity. He piled them up and sank into a couch, beginning to read.

It seemed like hours until he eventually grew tired of the books by Homer. After finishing _The Odyssey, _he wandered back through the library to replace the books when he was greeted by a fleeting image of vibrant red hair disappearing behind a shelf.

The giggling returned and Kartik followed the noise. Finally, he came across Gemma and her friend as they sifted through a book. Kartik approached them and upon noticing him, Gemma and Ann both stared up at him in a stunned silence.

"We came to get you. I'm ready to leave now." Gemma responded as she stood up, the book still in her hand.

Kartik folded his arms across his chest and stared at the book in her hands curiously. There was a picture of a relic; an eye with a crescent moon hanging off it like a tear. Gemma was quick to close the book and give it to Ann.

"Well...let's get going then." Gemma stated before brushing past him rather quickly.

Ann stared at him with wide eyes, like he was some animal behind bars, for her to examine. She then quickly scurried after Gemma like she was running away from the boogeyman.

Kartik followed in silence. They said their goodbyes before getting into the carriage where Gemma was practically humming to herself. Kartik stared at her sternly, burying his eyes into her.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" She questioned, squirming underneath his gaze.

"What was that thing you were looking at in the library?" Kartik questioned, not beating around the bush.

The whole time, the question was bothering him and he knew that if he did not get an answer, he would have trouble sleeping at night. As if the nightmares weren't enough. Gemma averted her gaze in an attempt to avoid his eyes and his question. His eyes bothered her; they still reminded her of someone but whom, she could not remember.

"It was nothing. It was just some foolish rubbish." Gemma concluded, pushing Kartik's question aside.

"Then tell me what this rubbish is." Kartik pressed.

Gemma looked at him exasperatedly but Kartik did not back down and she was met with his intense gaze again. She looked away quickly.

"Why must you know?" Gemma questioned back.

"I'm curious. That...relic you were looking at. It seems familiar." Kartik spoke.

Gemma was quick to stare at Kartik with wild eyes, shock registering in them. Kartik tried reading her expression but he could not tell if it was fear or anger.

"Familiar? Where have you seen it?" Gemma's voice had an edge to it.

"I can't recall. It just feels like I've seen it somewhere before." If Kartik's hunch was correct, that relic was the very one that was responsible for his father's death. He was going to test Gemma.

"You seem tense. Have I struck a nerve?" Kartik questioned, relaxing in his seat, preparing himself for the game he was about to play.

Gemma was silent before slowly speaking, "It's nothing."

Kartik inwardly cursed; the girl wasn't going to curve. Well of course she wouldn't, she didn't like him, much less trust him. Why would she open up to him? Either way, Kartik knew that she was the key to the mystery.

"So why do you seem upset, then?" Kartik continued; he wasn't going to quit yet.

"I'm not! That stuff is just rubbish. I was reading it because it's amusing to read such foolishness. That's all." Gemma was desperate to end the conversation.

She was lying and he knew it. But it could not be forced; if he wanted answers, he had to get Gemma to trust him and that was no easy task.

When they arrived back to the house, Kartik stripped off the shirt and gave it to a rather disgusted servant. Gemma looked away with flushed cheeks; unsure if it was from the heat or from the embarrassment. Either way, he was just saying his goodbyes when Gemma halted him with words.

"Kartik, wait." Well this was not part of the tradition.

He turned to face her; she was staring at the floor nervously, her fingers brushing titian hair out of her face to no avail.

"I never got to thank you for agreeing to my story." It was hardly audible but Kartik's ears were keen enough to pick it up.

"So?" Kartik pressed on, not understanding her sudden change in attitude.

"So...thank you." She replied, although it seemed she really had to force it out.

With that said, she nodded and walked up the stairs to her bedroom, leaving Kartik to stare after her curiously. Did she fancy him or was it just her really good mood? Kartik laughed in his head; either way, he had discovered Mr. Doyle's greatest treasure and he was already plotting on how to corrupt her beyond belief. Tonight, the 'hero' would return and put an end to the rumours of relief for the English.

Kartik walked out of the Doyle household looking absolutely content, hands stuffed in his pockets and a smile of pure mischievousness smeared on his full lips. He'd destroy Gemma Doyle, avenge his father and steal, steal, steal. After all, besides sex, it was what he was best at.

* * *

**A/N: **_Wow. It's finished. Chapter seven that is. The story is just getting started. Cliff-hangers juicy enough I hope. I tried revealing some aspects of the story in this but nothing more is going to get revealed until Gemma starts opening up to Kartik...hmm...wonder how he's going to do that? Especially after a certain incident that occurs at the dinner party? Okay, I'll shush now! Reviews are welcome, always. Next chapter will be out soon (I hope). Thanks for reading! ^_^_


	8. Spark

**The Pretender**

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**A/N: **_You guys are just so awesome, I decided to update sooner than I thought I would. Thanks for all the encouragement! So appreciated. Now on to an incredibly __**long**__ Chapter eight! __**Minors, beware...LIME AHEAD**_

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**Song: _Fantasy

_Artist: _Danny Fernandez

"_You're like an Indian summer in the middle of winter,  
Like a hard candy with a surprise center..."~ _Katy Perry, Thinking of you

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**Spark**

"Long live the assassin! He will free our people from the filthy English! Let us rise up together and support him! We shall overthrow the English heathens! Rise and kill our oppressors!"

Kartik watched with mild curiosity as the protestor was dragged away and beaten mercilessly by English soldiers. A smile spread along his lips unconsciously but it didn't go unnoticed; Gemma watched him in suspicion. Felicity and Pippa on the other hand were eyeing the Indian protestor with disgust and confusion, for they had no idea what he was ranting about in Hindi.

"Kartik, what was wrong with that man? Has he lost his mind?" Pippa questioned innocently, slightly cowering behind Kartik's tall frame.

"Lost his mind? Perhaps...it does seem like it. No need to worry your little pretty head about it, though. He's just asking around for a whore that will bed him and not leave him itching in pain the next morning. And if she does, then she should at least charge less." Kartik grinned and Gemma glared hard at him, catching his lie instantly.

Pippa and Ann looked completely appalled by Kartik's vulgar tongue. Felicity gave Kartik a hard look with her piercing eyes. It was clear that the delicate blonde was not at all fond of Gemma's Indian chaperon.

"How disgusting! Are all Indian men like that?" Pippa questioned with innocent large eyes.

Gemma never did understand why Pippa was so quick to change her demeanour and attitude with a male present. It was as if...she became more feminine and delicate.

Kartik looked at Pippa with a wide smile still on his face, "I'll leave that for you to find out." He winked, and Pippa, absorbing the idea of the gesture, almost gagged.

"Can we move on now? It's almost time for dinner and I still do not have a dress." Gemma rolled her eyes before walking ahead of the group.

Felicity laughed aloud before commenting, "Gemma, do you really think you'd find a decent dress in this filthy slum?"

"Well, this isn't the slums. There are English dresses here. You just have to search for them," Gemma retorted.

Kartik yawned and stretched, rubbing his heavy eyelids; he was bored of watching girls shop. He honestly did not understand what they enjoyed so much about it. If anything, it was tedious and boring. He would much rather be exploring her friends' houses to plan his next attack.

"Felicity, I'm surprised your mother has let you out of the house. I mean, after what has happened...aren't they a little worried?" Pippa questioned, looking at Felicity with concern.

Felicity looked away from Pippa's lingering gaze and preoccupied herself with jewellery that was displayed on a shop table. Yet even as everyone seemed uninterested, every pair of ears was listening keenly for Felicity's response.

"It doesn't bother me. What's it matter? It's not like it affects me anyways. So what? Just because some Indian pig got away with stealing some of father's things doesn't mean I should be locked away. It'll only be a matter of time before they've caught him and have him hung." A malicious smile played along Felicity's lips.

The other girls stared at her, not exactly sure of what to say to such a response. Kartik looked positively smug, feeling proud of himself and his accomplishment, for stealing from the Admiral's house was surely no easy task. But what was truly appeasing him was the fact that he would never get caught, no matter how much daddy's little girl wanted it. Of this he was absolutely certain.

"For someone who claims not to care, you do seem rather bothered by this Indian man you hardly even know, or else why wish him dead?" Kartik was brave, Gemma concluded.

Felicity turned her sharp eyes to Kartik and she glared at him venomously with such a profound hatred that Gemma hardly recognized the sarcastic Fee who was her friend. Kartik however, did not flinch. He loved challenges and Felicity Worthington was a challenge indeed.

"I would wish death unto any despicable Indian!" Felicity barked.

Kartik smiled and raised his hands in the air defensively. Gemma was desperate to relieve the awkward tension while Pippa and Ann simply exchanged glances.

"Well, let's move on then! I still need a dress." Gemma took the lead and the others followed shortly, but not before Felicity gave Kartik another hostile look.

"Ladies first." Kartik gestured.

As she walked with her fan beating mercilessly in the Indian heat, Kartik watched her carefully, eyes never leaving the voluptuous blonde.

Kartik followed the girls through crowds and began to feel the leering sun engulf him with its vicious heat. They finally paused at a shop and began to admire the goods on display. Kartik gave them his back and became grateful for the brief shade the stall provided.

That was when he saw him; a young boy, no older than Kartik himself. He was not Indian, Kartik concluded. His skin may have gained a tan thanks to the sun's agonizing rays of light but his eyes were a dark blue; the colour of the ocean. He was fairly tall with a head-full of messy brown hair that obscured his eyebrows. Despite all these things, Kartik noticed that the boy was filthy; dressed in clothing that resembled rags. He had rips and holes all over both his trousers and his shirt.

Kartik quirked up an eyebrow at the suspicious looking boy, watching him with mild amusement. Alas, the lion was playing with the lamb. Kartik had discovered a form of entertainment. He watched carefully as the boy suspiciously made his way to the stall, eyeing both the girls and the display. Carefully and sneakily, he came close enough until he was leaning over the table and eyed the merchandise with hungry eyes. The girls were all busy chattering away but Kartik's eyes remained glued to this boy.

It took Kartik a moment to realize that the boy was aiming to steal Ann's pouch and not any of the actual items from the shop. A smile spread along Kartik's lips; this was going to be incredibly fun.

"Don't you just LOVE this piece, young sir?!" Kartik's voice came out loud and strong as he picked up a lovely red sari.

The boy had almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Kartik's voice and Kartik could hardly hold himself from laughing hysterically. Everyone else at the stall had turned to stare at Kartik, including Gemma who, right away, knew he was up to something.

"Sir, don't you agree? My mother is quite fond of red. What do you think?" Kartik asked the boy, a charming smile on his lips.

Upon looking around, the boy turned to look at Kartik with bewilderment, finally realizing it was him he was addressing. He gave a feeble attempt at a smile.

"Y-yes, sir. It's very beautiful." His English accent was unmasked and Kartik knew his hunch had been right.

"Really? You think so? Oh, I'm sure she'd love it! What is your name, sir? So I can give her the pleasure of knowing such a sweet boy helped me in choosing this out for her." Kartik's smile never faltered but Gemma was beginning to find it frightening.

"M-my name?" The boy stuttered, pointing at himself in question.

Kartik nodded, thinking the boy to be a complete imbecile the whole time.

"Charlie, sir...and yours?" Charlie responded, staring at Kartik with suspicious, questioning eyes.

"Kartik! Pleasure to meet you, Charlie! Perhaps I'll see you around again. And next time, do be more discreet when you steal. You're putting the slum men at a shame and they won't be very happy if you ruin their reputation." Kartik chided, a smile still plastered on his face.

The boy looked around as the girls gaped in awe. Ann backed away in fear and disgust. The boy gave her a strange look and then stared at Kartik in fear before dashing out of sight. When he disappeared, Kartik keeled over in laughter.

"What a fool!" It took him a moment to realize that he was the only one who had found the entire ordeal to be amusing.

"...I think we should head back now." Gemma broke the awkward silence and the girls nodded in agreement, still looking at Kartik as if he was a homeless man running around the city in the nude.

"Such prunes...Spinsters in the making, I tell you." Kartik whispered low enough for only himself and the shopkeeper to hear.

The shopkeeper let out a roar of laughter and Gemma turned to look at Kartik with those green eyes that still haunted his dreams. He shrugged and followed after her.

* * *

When Kartik and Gemma finally arrived back at the Doyle household, Mrs. Doyle was quick to greet them both. Tom was home for a change and when Kartik greeted him, he simply glared in response.

"Kartik, if you please, I need to have a word with you alone. Gemma, go on upstairs for the time being," Mrs. Doyle said.

Gemma stared at her grandmother then back at Kartik before she turned around and made her exit. Then, Mrs. Doyle gave her grandson a stern look that indicated similar expectations. Hesitantly, and sighing in agitation, Tom left the room. Mrs. Doyle returned her attention to Kartik soon afterwards who stared right back, unaware of what to expect from the elderly lady.

"I'm surprised you've lasted as long as you have, Mr. Kartik. On this, I commend you. However," Mrs. Doyle paused as she picked up her china cup and took a sip of tea before continuing, "I believe Gemma is only behaving herself lately because of this dance that we have invited the Middletons to."

Kartik furrowed his dark eyebrows in question, his mind reeling and pondering the possibilities, for he never really knew what Mrs. Doyle was thinking. She smiled at him, and placed her cup back with so much finesse; Kartik could almost blush for being in front of such a proper lady.

"I'd like to offer you another task that I need taken care of." It was as if she had read his mind; he had no idea what any of this had to do with him.

There was something devious about Mrs. Doyle's smirk and Kartik began to feel uneasy. He began to pick and choose his words very carefully.

"Anything for you, Mrs. Doyle. After all, I highly doubt you can offer me anything more difficult than what you have already given me." Kartik replied smugly, digging his hands into his pockets and practically rolling on his heels.

"Good. That is the sort of response I like to hear from a man." Mrs. Doyle smiled before eyeing the boy up and down with mild intrigue.

"It is nice to be recognized as a man."

"Well, I'll just have to witness your success in this task before I can confirm that." Mrs. Doyle retorted.

Kartik quirked up a dark brow in response and a malicious smile spread across his lips. "Do explain," he said.

"At this dance, I have no doubt that Gemma will be misbehaving with that Middleton boy. She will do anything and everything to get him alone, perhaps. The scandal will be great and terrifying. She'll be completely unpredictable!" Mrs. Doyle explained before taking yet another sip of tea.

"So...?" Kartik was itching for her to finish the explanation, so he urged her onwards.

"So, you can consider yourself officially invited. You are to keep an eye on Gemma at all times and just make sure she is being fairly modest and not running off with that boy. Of course, the pay is very generous if you meet success; however, if you fail...the punishment will not be light, for this is a severely delicate occasion. Many important people will be in attendance."

Mrs. Doyle looked directly at Kartik when she said this, her eyes ever unwavering and firm. Kartik, on the other hand, seemed slightly bewildered and taken aback by the sudden news.

"What?! I'm going to this dance? What am I supposed to do when I get there? Just stand there? Surely your guests won't appreciate it if an Indian man is following a young girl around at a dance. Not to mention, I do not have any proper clothes for such a thing!" Kartik argued, fretting about how he would explain this to his brother and mother.

"Why are you worrying over such trivial matters? All those can be taken care of. Besides, it is normal that a young woman's chaperon is with her at all times. As for clothes, that, too, can be arranged." Mrs. Doyle rebutted.

Kartik opened and closed his mouth numerous times, looking for some form of an argument but couldn't.

The corner of Mrs. Doyle's lips rose in amusement at the sight. "If you aren't up for it, then you are free to leave." Mrs. Doyle added, finishing off the rest of her tea.

Kartik's broad shoulders stiffened and he folded his arms across his chest while he absorbed the possibility of such an option. Almost instantly, he knew that he could not say no.

"That won't be necessary. I can handle this task." Kartik replied with a surge of confidence.

Mrs. Doyle smiled, "Good. I am glad to hear that. I knew you'd be up for the challenge. Now go on and fetch Gemma down for dinner."

With that said; Mrs. Doyle stood up and walked out of the room, disappearing from sight. Kartik watched her go with a curious expression. He then scratched the back of his head, ruffling his dark curls, and wore a weary expression; what had he just gotten into?

* * *

Gemma sat in front of her mirror, staring at herself and not liking anything about what she saw. She wished she had Felicity's charm and Pippa's feminine features. Sure, she wasn't anywhere near ugly but she couldn't help but feel inferior next to her much prettier friends. She hated being the tallest, most freckled girl out of their group. Sometimes, she wondered how Simon could even be so dedicated to her when he had seen Pippa and Felicity. Not even Tom could keep his eyes off of them. Even Kartik seemed to be rather taken by Pippa.

A burning envy made Gemma feel guilty as soon as it came. She took her frustration out on her hair, running her comb more violently through her frivolous red curls until they settled down. Instantly, her thoughts went back to Simon; it felt like it had been an eternity since she had last seen him. Although she was utterly excited about the dance, she was convinced she would have to work on her charm to keep him occupied with her and not the other ladies who were attending. She tried fixing her expression so that she looked more alluring; more mysterious. She then flicked away at her hair and raised her shoulder, revealing the delicate and pale skin.

"Why, Mr. Darcy; what an honour it is for you to join us for such a grand festivity." Gemma spoke seductively, trying her hardest to add a husky edge to her voice.

When she felt dissatisfied with her speech, she adjusted her nightgown to expose some of her cleavage, trying her hardest to be discreet but intriguing at the same time. She wanted to lure Simon to her so that he would have no other lady; he would want no other lady but her. She fixed her hair so that it spilled in big crimson waves over her shoulders and back, covering some of her exposed flesh but leaving the eye with a pleasant view.

"Mr. Darcy! If you do not start behaving yourself, we will be the latest gossip among the crowds! Think of how improper this is! Oh, my virtue; how it shall be tainted!" Gemma recited in the mirror, quite enjoying herself and her performance.

"But my dear Elizabeth, no one has to know."

A male voice filling the room had caused Gemma to jump up from her seat in complete shock and fear. She turned around to face the intruder, using her hands to cover what she was already exposing. Her heart beat rapidly against her ribcage and she felt as if it was going to set itself free very soon.

Before she was to let out a blood curdling scream, shocked green eyes took in Simon's tall frame standing by her open window. He wore a smile of pure mischief and his blue eyes loomed dangerously under dark brows. Gemma finally began to relax somewhat but was still taken aback that he would sneak into her room so late in the day. Nonetheless, she knew that she had missed him and was quick to run over and embrace him.

He gently stroked her long red locks as she snuggled her face into the crane of his neck, taking in his familiar scent. Almost immediately, she felt relaxed, all her previous world far away on another planet. She could feel his chest heave with each breath he took and she realized she had indeed missed his touch and his presence.

"Have you prepared yourself well for this festivity, as you put it?" Simon said, allowing Gemma to move so that she could look up at his face.

She smiled gleefully before responding, "But of course! You, sir, shall be completely and utterly stunned."

Simon smiled and Gemma felt her heart skip a beat; she found herself leaning in for a kiss. When their lips met, Gemma found herself craving more. Her hands tangled in his hair while his dared to roam lower than her back. The kiss deepened, their tongues battling fiercely, like a fever had overcome the two lovers.

"Tell me," A male voice intruded, breaking Simon and Gemma instantly apart, "Why is that whenever I see you, it must always be in such an act of passion?"

Gemma and Simon flinched at Kartik's overbearing presence. They both took in deep breaths to maintain their quick beating hearts while Kartik watched with an amused half smile on his face, making him look utterly handsome. He was leaning his shoulder upon Gemma's doorframe and had his arms folded across his chest as his large dark eyes took in the event occurring before him.

"Kartik! Do you not have the decency to knock?! What if I had been unclothed?" A flustered Gemma stammered as she tried to slow her beating heart. She was still experiencing the after effects of lust.

Before Kartik responded, Gemma noted his eyes switch to Simon, who was a little behind her. Simon began striding towards Kartik and Gemma figured it was the first time she had ever seen him looking even remotely upset.

"You are beginning to bother me." Simon hissed at Kartik.

"Oh, am I? If I recall correctly, I believe you weren't so bothered when Ms. Doyle here practically saved your life back in that alleyway while you cowered behind her. And not to mention, I had to come along and help you when she failed. Now, what kind of man does that make you? Are you a man at all?" Kartik fought back, unfolding his arms and giving Simon his full height.

Gemma was beginning to think she was witnessing two male gorillas ready to fight rather than two men who just wanted to intimidate one another.

"Hah! This coming from an Indian? I would not have let those men hurt a single hair on Gemma's head when it came down to it." Simon spat, his hands forming fists while Kartik moved closer so that the two were almost face to face.

"This Indian was the one who saved you; otherwise those men would have skinned you alive." Kartik furrowed his eyebrows in agitation while clutching his hands into fists as well.

"On the contrary, they had been willing to let me go. But I stayed because I would not have let them harm Gemma! At least my intentions were genuine and romantic while yours are simply selfish! Typical of a filthy slum rat like you." Simon's face was beginning to redden in agitation.

Kartik let out a hysterical laugh that seemed more sinister than humorous before adding, "Selfish you say? Well, call it whatever you like, lover boy, but the fact remains; I got the job done. What did romantic and genuine intentions do? I'm sure you already know the answer to that, Mr. Middleton." Kartik's face was so close that his spit practically landed on Simon's face.

Simon almost roared in fury before Gemma ran between them and literally drove the two apart. Both men seemed taken aback by her sudden action but still remained glaring at one another.

"Simon, get out! You've both probably attracted the attention of the entire household to my room! Get out before you are caught!" Gemma looked at Simon sternly, no compassion in her green eyes.

Simon immediately changed his expression from one of fury to one of a lost and hurt puppy. But Gemma did not waver; she remained staring at him until he cursed at Kartik and disappeared outside her window. Then, she gave Kartik her full attention. Kartik smiled playfully at her but she was in no mood to play.

She went right up to him and gave him a hard slap right to the face, the sound of skin upon skin almost reverberating throughout her room. Kartik rubbed his cheek as his dark curls moved and covered his face from the impact.

"Never, ever say those things to him again! He is twice the man that you will ever be!" Kartik looked at Gemma through angry dark eyes as he practically hissed at the woman.

Gemma remained serious and stern, showing Kartik that she was not afraid of him or his threats. It was as if she was taunting him; asking him to just try and hit her. She was ready to retaliate if he did and Kartik found this part of Gemma Doyle to be utterly attractive.

"Ms. Doyle! Is everything alright?" An out of breath maid had come into the room, staring from Kartik to Gemma frantically.

Gemma recoiled and plastered a fake smile on her face before replying, "Yes, everything is great. Kartik was just informing me about dinner. I'll be coming now."

With that, the feisty redhead picked up her skirts and left Kartik behind to tend to his wounds. Her slap had been so hard and so unexpected, Kartik was bleeding; he could taste the metallic liquid pooling inside of his mouth. He despised Gemma Doyle and now he was even more keen in destroying her. She would indeed pay for her actions, Kartik would be sure of that.

This was war.

* * *

Over the course of the next few days, Kartik remained quieter than usual, especially around the girls. Not only was he tired of their shopping adventures and their swooning over dresses and jewellery, but his pride was still hurting. He detested Gemma and at the same time, had found the fight in her so attractive that previous feelings of lust for her had returned. For this, he hated her even more.

After a long day of putting up with the girls, Kartik was just about ready to retire home. He had noted that Gemma was also impervious to his mood and found this aggravating. She was pretending like he didn't even exist. And to have thought that he had been making progress; now she'd never open to him about her mother's death.

"Kartik! Oh thank heavens you're finally home, son!" Kartik's mother was quick to envelop her son in a big welcoming hug.

This was strange to Kartik; his mother always ever greeted him with lectures and beatings; never hugs. After taking in his smell of sweat and dirt, she immediately let him go and scrunched up her nose.

"Have you been playing in the pig's dung? You smell terrible! You best not smell like this when Priya and her family come over for dinner tomorrow." His mother added in, a sly smile playing on her lips as she spoke.

Kartik walked about a few inches before he paused in his step and abruptly turned to face his mother with wide eyes. She giggled with absolute merriment and Kartik could already taste the bile rise up to his throat.

"W-what?! Tomorrow?! As in, tomorrow night? You invited them tomorrow?! And you tell me now?!" Kartik practically flipped out of his skin, much like a fish out of water.

"Yes, why? What is wrong with that? It isn't like you have any plans." It was Amar's deep voice that snuck up behind Kartik.

Kartik jumped to face his brother's tall figure, only to notice that he too was looking absolutely delighted about all this. Kartik rolled his eyes as he discovered why; of course, Puja was coming.

"No, of course not. No plans." Kartik smiled hesitantly.

He was not looking forward to tomorrow night anymore. After all, he had the Doyle's dinner to attend to as well. That was when it hit him; the Doyle's dance was tomorrow night too. His face paled as this realization hit him. Amar seemed to take notice of his brother's sudden change in demeanour.

"Kartik? Are you alright?" Amar questioned, dark eyebrows furrowing as he pondered on his brother's expression.

"But of course he is! He's so ecstatic he can hardly move! Just look at him; he's completely love struck!" Kartik's mother shouted with glee as she pinched Kartik's cheeks and pulled at them.

Despite the pain, Kartik did not move; he was rooted to the spot in complete horror. Were the fates playing tricks on him? Did they enjoy watching his suffering? Was Kartik finally outsmarted?

"Kartik, are you with us?" Amar waved his hand in front of Kartik's eyes to get his attention.

"You do know that I have work, don't you?! How the heck am I going to make this thing?" Kartik argued, desperate to break his mom.

He knew he had failed in that conquest when she broke out into a wider and more mischievous smile.

"Of course I knew that! I already explained to them that you come home late in the evening. They said that was fine since they have to make sure the shop is fully closed before they can make it anyways. So, it works out perfectly!"

Kartik could cry; if he didn't go to this thing with his family, his mother would forever hate him. Yet, if he didn't go to the Doyle's dance, he would be out of a job that he greatly relied on. He knew very well that there was no way he could balance both evenly; he would have to choose and it was a hefty decision to make indeed.

"That's lovely, mother." Kartik said in monotone as he stared at the floor in despair.

Amar patted his shoulder in a friendly manner, letting him know that he was proud of his brother. He then disappeared into the kitchen to pour himself some more tea while his mother squabbled after him, ranting and raving about how cute of a couple her sons made with the two most beautiful Indian women in the village.

The choice was heavy and difficult, but the answer he knew. Still, Kartik could reach only one final conclusion; either way, he would be in deep shit.

* * *

It was the day of the dance party and Gemma was completely flustered and nervous. It was as if nothing was ever perfect enough. She could spot a flaw in absolutely everything and she could not, for her life, stop fidgeting and tweaking her dress and her hair. She knew she looked good with her low cut, green dress, complex hairstyle, intricate hairpiece and shining diamonds sprinkled around her neck but she still wanted to perfect her image. The necklace was absolutely beautiful, being a gift from Simon himself. It was very expensive with a red gem in the middle and thick diamonds encrusted around it. It shimmered under the light and drew everyone's attention to her neckline and her breasts.

Ann, Pippa and Felicity had yet to arrive but Gemma was almost confident that she'd be just as well dressed as them and would finally be some competition. After adjusting a final crimson curl, she left her room to see what guests of the evening had arrived; heart racing whenever she thought it would be Simon.

The servants opened the door and Gemma peeked outside, only to see a very dishevelled Kartik come striding through, looking absolutely glum and miserable. What the heck was he doing there? There was no way it would be plausible for an Indian to be invited to such a prestigious gathering. Unless...

Gemma's heart stopped briefly and her eyes widened in complete horror as the realization dawned on her. Lifting her skirts and being careful not to trip over her own two feet, Gemma stormed to her grandmother's room.

"Why is Kartik here?!" Gemma demanded, scaring the servants but not even causing a flinch from her grandmother.

Mrs. Doyle's expression remained unchanged, only further infuriating Gemma.

"You should know very well why he is here." Mrs. Doyle managed to say as she fixed her earrings.

Gemma practically snarled in the most unladylike ways before arguing, "Why must you insist upon ruining the evening?! Do you not trust me?!"

Mrs. Doyle allowed a smile to tug at the corners of her mouth; "After your past incidents, do you actually believe I ever will? This is of your own doing, Gemma. I am simply taking the necessary precautions to ensure you do no more harm to this family's reputation."

Not knowing what to say and feeling like she was about to explode from anger, Gemma stomped out of her grandmother's room in a complete fit. The evening had barely begun and she was already upset. She was going to fight her grandmother for this; she would get rid of Kartik any way she could tonight, if only just to spite Mrs. Doyle.

When Gemma returned downstairs, convincing herself that she would take matters into her own hands, she noticed Kartik was standing at the foyer, picking at the buttons on his vest. Gemma's eyes widened as she took in every detail about him; his hair was combed through, leaving his curls to look neat and slick, his face was clean shaven, accentuating his masculine features and strong jaw, and he was dressed in a black suit with a dark green vest and bow tie. The tan of his skin brought out the liveliness of his dark eyes where long, black lashes accentuated the size. All in all, Gemma had to admit; Kartik was looking quite dashing for an Indian.

Upon staring at him for a few fleeting moments with wide eyes and an open mouth, Kartik turned to notice her, giving her a perfect view of the side of his face she had slapped. It was slightly discoloured and swollen but still somewhat hidden underneath his darker skin tone.

"Beautiful isn't it? I rather think it goes well with the tie. Thank you, Ms. Doyle." Kartik broke the silence, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Gemma did not understand what he was talking about since she was still far too busy immersed in staring at him in the suit. When she did understand however, she instantly turned a bright pink, feeling embarrassed at her rash actions from the previous evening. She figured she owed him an apology, especially if she was to win his favour for the night.

"I owe you an apology for my terrible behaviour last night." She started, staring at the floor with reddened cheeks.

Kartik finally took an actual serious look at her this time, noticing how good the hot tempered redhead looked in green. Nonetheless, his rage was fierce and his pride was still aching. He wouldn't forgive her so easily but she didn't have to know that. He smiled at her then, flashing her white teeth.

"That's quite alright. I was out of line. I suppose I just wanted to tease your friend." Kartik carefully hinted, noticing how Gemma became fidgety at the mention of Simon.

At first, Gemma just stared at him quizzically and didn't understand why he was apologizing. But she decided to let it go and smiled back, although she was still a tad bit apprehensive.

"Well then, I believe the guests should be arriving soon. I best go and prepare. I shall see you in the ballroom?" Gemma questioned in a chipper fashion.

Kartik grinned and then nodded before watching Gemma lift up her skirts and disappear back up the stairs. He hated himself for sucking up to her in this manner but knew it had to be done nonetheless, no matter how much his ego bruised. Kartik sighed to himself and once again fidgeted uncomfortably in the suit he was in. He felt so unnatural and so out of his own comfort zone, what with the expensive clothing on him. But he couldn't help and notice that he did look ridiculously good in them nonetheless. Well, with the beating he was going to receive later on in the evening from his mother for skipping dinner with Priya, he figured he should at least look decent.

Finally, as soon as the sun was ready to settle down beyond the horizon, the guests began to arrive, looking expensive and important in their formal wear. The Doyle's were busy entertaining the guests with Mr. Doyle telling his famous adventure stories about his experience in the Indian jungles and Mrs. Doyle laughing serenely at a few jokes being made by the women that surrounded her. Kartik had to admit; that woman was certainly enigmatic and, even though she was practically twice his age, there was definitely something attractive about the way she held herself.

As the musicians settled in their positions and were busy organizing their instruments, Kartik simply stood leaning against the wall to the entrance of the Doyle's ballroom. He watched curiously and examined almost every guest keenly and carefully while taking humble sips of his alcoholic beverage. He could spot Tom flirting away with a group of giddy women; some younger and some older. They seemed to blush at his every comment and were absolutely transfixed by his charming good looks.

A little further amongst the crowds was Kartik's prey; Gemma Doyle was hard to miss in her dark green dress that brought out the striking green in her eyes and clashed with her long red waves of hair and porcelain skin. Her friends, Pippa, Ann and Felicity, did not fail to impress either. Kartik found himself staring at Pippa the way a fiend would eye its next victim. She wore a dark plum and white coloured dress that accentuated her amethyst coloured eyes as well as her thick black curls and ghostly pale skin.

Without even realizing it, Kartik found himself on his second drink, his eyes never leaving Pippa's bountiful figure. Felicity was in a bright red and gold dress that purposely showed more than enough cleavage, while Ann looked rather plain in a simple light shade of blue and white. But either way, Kartik could not be bothered with those two and, from what he noticed, most of the other men in the room seemed utterly taken by Pippa as well. She truly outshone all her companions when it came to beauty.

Then, suddenly, Gemma's smile faltered and her eyes widened. Kartik followed her gaze only to notice that she was staring at Simon. Kartik puzzled over why she looked so shocked; perhaps she was simply so excited that she couldn't believe it. But then, having another glance showed that Simon was following a girl no older than Gemma. Kartik noticed that the girl had the clearest, bluest eyes he had ever seen as well as long, dark, silky tresses that flowed down her back in ringlets. The dress and jewels that decorated her made her look even more appealing and beautiful and Kartik could fully understand why Simon would be so transfixed by her. She would be giving Pippa some challenges, Kartik concluded.

As the evening dragged on, Kartik knew the guests were giving him odd looks of disgust and hatred. He didn't bother returning the gesture though; he was far too busy keeping an eye on Gemma who was looking rather glum after Simon's appearance with another young lady. However, the two lovers had still shared a dance together although Gemma looked positively upset whereas Simon looked rather pleading. He had bent low and whispered something into her ear but Gemma remained unchanged. As soon as the dance ended, Simon engaged in a series of dances with the young lady that had arrived that evening and Gemma watched on with a burning envy.

Pippa did not have a moment of rest for almost every gentleman in the room had asked her for a dance whereas Felicity had rejected every single one of hers. Ann became one of the many girls that surrounded Tom and seemed to be basking in his attention and stories. Kartik swirled the glass in his hand, not exactly knowing what to do with himself. Was this the English's idea of fun?

Finally, after a few completely uneventful hours, Kartik noticed that each girl had vanished, along with Simon. Alarmed and suddenly alert, although slightly buzzed from the alcohol he had consumed, Kartik tensed up immediately and scanned the crowd in desperation. He moved around, pushing past protesting English men and women, in search of the bright red curls that belonged to Gemma Doyle. Mrs. Doyle, who was in the distance, gave Kartik a knowing glance, signifying that she was indeed watching and monitoring him. This only caused Kartik to tense up even more, his walk becoming more of a hunter's walk than of a human. Finally, he spotted the back of Simon's head disappearing into a distant room that seemed to be completely abandoned.

Carefully, Kartik followed, standing by the door idly until the coast was clear. Then, he entered stealthily. As he closed the door behind him, he turned around only to be met with Simon's sneering face.

"Well, how nice of you to join us." Simon spat while Gemma stood up and eyed Kartik with large eyes.

"Kartik! What are you doing here?!" She cried in a low voice, trying to maintain a whisper.

"I should ask you the same, Ms. Doyle, Ms. Cross, Ms. Worthington and Ms. Bradshaw." Kartik retorted, eyeing them suspiciously.

The room was tiny and cramped and seemed to be an abandoned study room with a single round table and a few chairs tucked around it.

"Now, now Gemma. Why don't we let him stay?" Simon smiled mischievously, pulling out a small flask from the inside of his coat pocket.

Kartik watched his hand motions carefully, not knowing exactly what to expect. Gemma was still looking at Kartik with pleading eyes and Kartik could not understand why she was giving him such a piteous stare.

Kartik noticed that Felicity was giving him a nasty stare that told him she did not want him there while Pippa and Ann looked on at him curiously, awaiting his next move. Then, Simon opened the flask and took a small sip of the liquid inside. He shuddered a little as the cool liquid went down his throat, but then wiped his mouth before passing the flask on to an apprehensive Gemma. Meanwhile, Kartik watched as each girl downed the drink, looking as if they had just bitten into a cockroach.

After everyone had a round, Simon offered the flask to Kartik, "If you're truly a man, like you claim to be, then surely you can handle this?" Simon taunted.

Kartik shook his head, "Perhaps if you tell me its contents, then I will consider it."

Simon almost snickered, "The green fairy. Have you heard of it before?"

Kartik's eyes widened in shock; how on earth had Simon gotten a hold on something as dangerous as that? Worst of all, how could the girls drink such a thing and yet seem unaffected? At his expression, Simon burst out into laughter while a smile tugged at Felicity's lips.

"Are you afraid?" Simon teased, still waving the flask in front of Kartik's careful eyes.

"No. But I am not a fool either. You can have your fun but I won't have any part in it." Kartik stated matter-of-factly.

Simon mocked Kartik before taking another gulp and passing the green poison back around to each girl. Not being able to watch anymore of it, Kartik exited the room and made his way back to the lobby where he took up another drink. This time though, he swallowed it down quickly, feeling frustrated and angry at himself. How the heck was he going to get this information out of Gemma if she was going to be blasted out of her own mind and spending every second of the evening in Simon's company?

Shocking the servant, Kartik forcefully grabbed another glass and started gulping away its contents. He did not want to get his hide beaten over this. He hated that all his efforts were going to go to waste and, not only that, but if Gemma continued to drink that poison, he'd fail at his job too and Mrs. Doyle would be more than ready to give him the boot. At this thought, Kartik angrily shoved the empty glass at the servant and stormed back into the ballroom, looking as ferocious as everyone would expect an Indian to be.

With a quick stride and slightly mismatched balance, Kartik made his way back to the study room to drag Gemma out. If anything, he would at least make sure he didn't lose his job over this. He didn't care if he had to carry her out with her flung over his shoulder. At this point, he was angry, slightly drunk and totally vengeful, and therefore, willing to go to extreme measures.

However, upon re-entering the room, he bumped into Pippa as she was making her departure. Kartik immediately apologized only to notice that Pippa had started to giggle hysterically. Felicity and Ann followed as well, with Ann looking slightly dazed and Felicity looking madly ecstatic. Simon and Gemma however, were nowhere to be seen. Kartik's demeanor immediately changed from anger to panic and he shoved the other three girls aside in hopes of catching a glimpse of either Simon or Gemma. When he didn't, he turned upon the girls with frightening anger lurking in his dark eyes.

"Where are they?!" He barked with as much restraint as he could.

The girls looked at each other and smiled playfully. Felicity shrugged her shoulders while Ann seemed to be quite taken by the chandelier that decorated the centre of the hall. She began to twirl about in a frenzy with an enchanted smile on her face. Felicity seemed to find this absolutely amusing and burst out in peals of laughter. However, Pippa leaned into Kartik so suddenly, that he stumbled backwards at the sudden contact. A familiar heat rose up to his face while the blood rushed elsewhere.

He couldn't help but notice how her breasts pushed out of the corset and squished against his chest. He tried his hardest to avert his gaze to her face and focus on the task at hand, although with his mild dizziness, this was slightly difficult to achieve.

"Gemma ran away with the green fairy. Who knows what Simon wants to do to her? Perhaps it is what she's longed for in her dreams." Pippa whispered huskily while her fingers traced circles along Kartik's jaw.

Almost immediately, Kartik pushed Pippa off of him only to hear her cackle maddeningly, her haunting voice chasing him down the hall as he stumbled about in search of his charge. The alcohol was making him woozy and everything was beginning to blend; the music and the voices started to meld and form a pounding pulse inside his head. He steadied himself against a wall and shut his eyes tightly as the pain seared though his temple.

Even though he was clearly not fit; having drunk more than he should have taken care to notice, he could still focus on his primary objective; he had to find Gemma Doyle. If he did not find her, everything he had worked hard to obtain would be wasted and his father's murder would forever remain unsolved and unjustified. This seemed to fuel his motivation and he stood up tall, quavering slightly before dashing off to the one place he knew Gemma would seek refuge; her bedroom.

Although climbing the stairs proved to be a challenge, Kartik managed to make it. His head continued to throb but to a lessening degree once he was away from all the noise. It was so quiet; he began to think he might have gone deaf. Until he heard the shouts coming from Gemma's room. The sudden noise brought him back into focus and he watched carefully as Simon exited the bedroom, looking absolutely upset and distressed. As if he was mad, he opened his flask and drank the contents of it until there was no more. Then, wobbling, he stumbled past Kartik, hardly taking any notice of him at all.

The door to Gemma's room had slammed shut behind him but, even as Kartik waited, Gemma did not appear. So, being careful to take baby steps, Kartik went to investigate. Feeling slightly apprehensive and emotional, Kartik tapped his fist lightly against Gemma's door. When no response came, Kartik tried again but added a bit more strength to his knock. Still nothing. Worrying, he carefully opened the door while muttering a quiet, "Ms. Doyle?"

As he peeked inside, he noticed her bed was still fully made and this helped calm Kartik, if only a little bit. He slowly opened the door further and let himself inside, spotting Gemma facing her windowsill where fresh, cool Indian night air swept right through, toying with her vibrant red curls. Kartik then closed the door behind him cautiously before making his way towards the abnormally quiet girl.

"Ms. Doyle...are you alright?" Kartik inquired, still feeling remotely dizzy from the alcohol in his system.

Finally, Gemma slowly turned to face him, her face totally flushed and rosy cheeks alive with colour. Her green orbs were widened and red veins could be seen in the usually clear whites of her eyes. She wore a smile that seemed more frightening than sincere to Kartik.

"Never better, actually." She stated bluntly, taking a step closer towards the Indian man.

Kartik backed away slowly but almost lost his footing as he did so. Gemma only inched closer, seemingly asphyxiated with the collar of his shirt.

"How else shall a lady feel once she discovers that she has been cursed with an evil that goes by the name of Lucy Fairchild?" Gemma spoke softly, her voice hardly an audible whisper.

She continued to come closer towards Kartik while staring intently at his clothing. Afraid that he was going to fall and kill himself, Kartik decided not to fight her and to just watch what she was going to do. When she finally was close enough, her body almost right against his, her fingers gently caressed the satin of his vest and made small circular trips. Her hand continued to move up until she came to his bow tie and she fingered it delicately, as if it were a flower just coming into full bloom.

Kartik twitched but came to the conclusion that Gemma Doyle was clearly not herself in this moment. So perhaps, he would be able to take advantage of her current sedated state.

"Ms. Doyle...I-I believe I have no idea what... it is you are talking about." Kartik stuttered, his breathing becoming labored as Gemma drew herself closer to him, leaving her breasts to just brush against his chest teasingly.

"Oh, have you not heard? Simon is to be engaged to that American girl." Gemma smiled yet again but it seemed pained as she said this.

Kartik eyed her every movement carefully, "Oh. I have not. Sorry to hear that. I'm sure you're greatly depressed. But it is his loss, I assure you." Kartik was beginning to lose to the alcohol and the feeling of lust that was building inside of him.

Ever since he had taken up the job of being Gemma Doyle's guardian, he hadn't lain with a woman since. And after Pippa's bold gestures, he was already feeling tempted. Gemma certainly wasn't helping matters. She inched so close now, that he could feel her warm breath against his neck while her fingers began tracing up his jaw and eventually, caressing his soft lips. They stayed there, taking in the feel of the smooth pink flesh, while Gemma raised her head so that she could watch her fingertips dance. Kartik's lips remained parted, his breaths coming out longer and deeper.

"Tell me, Ms. Doyle...how did your mother pass?" Kartik tried to bring himself back to the task at hand but found it difficult when Gemma continued to touch him and move in closer.

Gemma didn't respond; she was far too transfixed by his lips, eyeing them like a hungry wolf. He stayed her hand by grabbing a hold of her wrist but she simply giggled.

"Ms. Doyle...you are not yourself." Kartik choked out, fighting back the temptation that was begging to explode.

His skin tingled from where she touched him and the buzz of the alcohol was making it feel even better. The heat emanating from her body went straight into him and he found himself enjoying it; relishing in it. The contact of his hand on her wrist sent jolts through her body and she felt as if she was touching silk; smooth, flawless silk or satin.

"Your skin...is very soft." Gemma whispered.

As she felt his skin, she was overcome with the urge to taste it; to feel her tongue against it. So she kissed his hand, softly and gently. Kartik withdrew immediately and Gemma looked like an abandoned puppy. Kartik tried to move away but Gemma was back up against him, this time running her hands through his soft messy, black curls. Then, she pulled his face in, ever so tempted to feel his lips against her own; to taste his mouth.

Kartik had given up on fighting, his lusting proving to be more of an enemy than the actual alcohol. He allowed her to lead and his hands drifted to her waist where he pulled her further into him. She pressed her lips on his, fireworks practically exploding before her eyes as she did so. The green fairy was to be blamed for the extreme euphoria she was feeling. How she wanted to strip out of her clothes and feel the smooth satin of his hands against her flesh.

She deepened the kiss, kneading the soft flesh of his lips with her own, enjoying the feel of them against hers. He kissed her back, desperate and hungry for more. Slowly, she drove him towards her bed where they both landed, still lip locked and curious, hands roaming and mouths desperate to explore more of each other. Somehow, moments later, their clothes had been discarded and tossed aside angrily. They were barriers that were only in the way of the feeling; the buzz of the nerves as they tingled each time he pressed himself against her.

She could hardly comprehend what was going on; all she could do was enjoy the feeling of Kartik's sweaty body against her own, of his wet and cold tongue tasting her everywhere. Simon was but a far distant memory, as well as Lucy Fairchild. She brushed the thought of them aside as Kartik's tongue came back to her mouth, sending her halfway to madness. She had never known how powerful a man's fingers could be, but she found herself enjoying everything Kartik was doing to her with them. Her fingernails dug into the strong muscles of his back as he came back up to kiss her cheeks, her neck, and her ear, while his thrusts grew more powerful and passionate.

Her hands tangled into his hair and his clutched at the bed sheets next to her head, veins in his strong arms surfacing with his strength. Gemma allowed for a soft moan to escape her lips and into the night, and what a night it was.

* * *

**A/N: **_Oh dear! What a terribly long chapter! It's the longest so far! I hope no one is offended by the little lime. It dragged on more than I thought it would. But hopefully a long chapter is a good thing, right? At least I managed to fit everything I wanted into this chapter, otherwise, that would disrupt the whole flow of things. Well then, reviews are welcome! They truly make my day guys. So go ahead; criticize and critique or just tell me what you thought. It's all good! Stay tuned for chapter nine SOON. P.S...I always wanted a conforntation between Simon and Kartik and I never did imagine it would go very well, hehe. No doubt that Kartik would be the victor ;) You can tell I'm no Simon fan...  
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	9. Caution

**The Pretender**

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****A/N: **_Delays. I'm awful aren't I? For those few dedicated readers who haven't abandoned me, I hope you stick around even after this chapter! School is evil reincarnate but now that it's over, I'm hoping to update more often! Yay? Anyways, enjoy!_

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__Song: _Again & Again

_Artist: _2PM

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**Caution**

It wasn't very difficult to awaken Gemma in the wee dark hours of the night. Everything seemed to be irritating her sleep, including her dreams. For a strange reason, she had dreamt of her mother; dreams she had not had since she was a child. On top of that, her body was sore and her pulse seemed to have decided that living in her skull was better fitting. She sat upright in what she assumed was her bed and grabbed at her head in agony, waiting for the radiating pain to dissipate. When it somewhat subsided, she threw her bare legs over the edge of the bed and allowed them to hover over the carpeted floor until she regained a semblance of balance.

The sudden shift in movement threw her head into frenzy and Gemma had to steady herself on the bed for fear of toppling over. After a few moments, she stood up and made to adjust her night gown which, for sure, would be sticking to her sweat soaked figure. However, when instead she felt her own velvety skin underneath the tips of her fingers, Gemma's head swam. Confusion came in waves but one question surfaced; naked?

Thinking too hard seemed to hurt and therefore, Gemma concluded that perhaps she had removed it when she had been conscious due to the intense humidity of summer nights. She threw on her robe nonetheless for dignity's sake if anything. And then the bed creaked.

Gemma froze, rooted to the spot, her head still spinning and wondering if perhaps she was the source of the noise. But a muffled groan of ecstasy that followed seemed to set her in the correct state of mind. That hadn't been her.

Green eyes widened in terrified horror as Gemma forced her body to face the source despite the fear sending her heart on an adrenaline rush. Though it was difficult to make out much in her rather darkened room, the moving of a large lump underneath her covers proved to her that she did not need light in order to know someone else was in her bed. Now in panic mode with her heart beating wildly against her rib cage, Gemma tried her hardest to recall the events of the previous evening but that only seemed to cause more pain to sear through her temple.

A soft breeze came through her open window, sending her curtains amiss and allowing a tender amount of moonlight to cascade over the half of the bed closest to it. In turn, this cast a glimmer of light and shadow on her intruder. Truth be told, she only needed to make out the silhouette of unruly soft curls splayed across the pillow to be able to name the man occupying her bed.

Kartik. The name echoed in her head along with the pulsating pain. Why was he in her bed? Why was she naked? Was he naked as well?

The realization sent Gemma into a wild fit both mentally and emotionally. Her heartbeat grew stronger and she longed to scream but, she still needed to be sure. Perhaps, if he wasn't naked...then, she was merely jumping to conclusions. She gently tiptoed to the side of the bed that Kartik was on, softly snoring against the pillow. The anxiety was driving her absolutely mad but she feared waking him up.

As she drew closer, she found herself studying his features and when her gaze landed on his lips, a brief flashback of her grazing them roughly came back to her. She pushed the thought out of her head and focused on her task. Although the moonlight had helped guide her, it did not help in allowing her to see if his torso was covered or bare. So, she had no choice but to feel him. As her finger hovered above the outline of his shoulder, there was a sudden movement and the next thing Gemma knew was that her arm hurt, grabbed by a powerful force with an angry grip.

Regaining her focus, she made out that Kartik had moved; now sitting directly upright and clutching her arm with brute force. As she looked at his face, only his eyes were visible and they seemed to be shining with an underlying terrible sadness that she had never seen before.

When Kartik snapped out of his dream-like state, he immediately let go of Gemma's arm and backed away, shamefully, the nightmare still fresh on his mind. Gemma gently nursed the injured and soon to be bruised arm as Kartik seemed too distracted to notice the situation. But pity for the Indian boy didn't last long when Gemma noted that he was, indeed, without a shirt in her bed.

"What. Are. You. Doing. In. My. Bed?!" Gemma glowered, her voice still a whisper but holding a justifiable amount of anger.

Kartik finally seemed to come back to earth and he recalled the evening immediately. He opened his mouth to explain but remembered how awkward the entire thing was and immediately closed it. The panic and desperation in Gemma's expression though already told him she was suspicious and only needed the finer details to confirm it.

Then Kartik questioned with a smirk, "Well, what do you think happened?"

Gemma grabbed the pillow that Kartik had previously been lying on and attacked him with it viciously. Kartik, totally unprepared for the assault, raised his arms in defence only seconds too late. What Gemma could not say in words for fear of waking the entire house, she played out with how rough she became with the pillow. Even as Kartik tried to back away and get her to stop, she was persistent enough to climb on top of the bed where she had a perfect angle for his face and head. Time and time again, the usually soft object became a lethal weapon and Kartik decided the only way to get her to stop would be to take it away from her.

Finally, out of sheer annoyance, Kartik grabbed at the pillow, tearing it right out of Gemma's hands with a snarl. But that didn't stop her; Gemma began to beat her fists wildly at Kartik now and this seemed to hurt a whole lot more. Fed up, he grabbed her and pinned her to the bed, arms above her head while she kicked her legs dangerously close to a sensitive area.

"Calm down you crazy woman!" Kartik yelled as Gemma continued to fight.

"Do you want everyone to walk into your bedroom and see us like this?!" Kartik threatened, dark eyes glowering at Gemma.

This seemed to work as Gemma gave up kicking and fighting, remaining still in Kartik's iron grip. Her breaths came in heavy and ragged, her heart hammering dangerously inside of her. She met Kartik's gaze with her own, fury and fight still remaining in her eyes.

"Let me go." Was all she managed to say, still taking in deep breaths.

Kartik released her and got out of the bed, steadying himself on his feet. He rummaged for his clothes in the darkness blindly and when he found them, he was quick to dress. Gemma sat on her bed, practically in the fetal position, not knowing what to do with herself.

"I can't believe this." She whispered, tears threatening to spill.

Kartik said nothing, knowing that this was his queue to leave. He drew back the curtains, allowing for soft moonlight to once again lighten the room. He turned to look at Gemma only to see her head buried into her arms and her shoulders lightly shaking. If he wanted to, he could have easily picked up on her soft whimpers. Instead, he opened her window and threw himself out, taking in the sounds of the night.

* * *

Trouble. This was a word Kartik had grown all too familiar with. Amar had lectured him upon his arrival home while his mother managed to get in a few hard slaps. She even muttered a few insults and complained about how much he had humiliated her and their family for his terrible behaviour. Apparently, he had left Priya completely broken hearted and had shattered any shred of hope of marrying her. Not that he wasn't content with this fact. But it seemed to have greatly upset his mother.

Amar seemed to have gotten suspicious about the job Kartik was claiming to have and now monitored him closely. But this didn't stop Kartik from performing his late night duties. He managed to steal a few more valuables from the rich, keeping them buried inside his private underground chamber. By now, guards were everywhere, suspicious of every Indian who roamed the streets. A picture was drawn of Kartik, dressed in the black garments that obscured most of his features, and there was a hefty large sum of money being offered for his body, dead or alive.

None of this seemed to deter Kartik from his one mission and goal though; he still needed Gemma to open up about her mother and he was also desperate to get a hold of the book she had been flipping through with Ann. The picture of the relic burned inside his head. Surely, she knew something. Although Kartik didn't trust his brother's story to the fullest, he was pretty confident that his father's death had something to do with Gemma's mother. The only person who would know anything, the only person who would betray such delicate information easily without suspicion, was currently ignoring him.

Gemma Doyle could hardly lift her gaze to look at the man and when they went on her routinely trips, conversation was kept minimum. Kartik was beginning to grow agitated and impatient with this lack of progress. But how the heck was he supposed to fix something that he had stolen and was unable to give back?

Every day, she would invite her friends and they would all decide to ignore Kartik, with Felicity occasionally performing a prank to make his life all the more miserable. It was near impossible to get Gemma alone anymore whatsoever and when he did, she would find an excuse to leave. But, it seemed Gemma's luck was about to run out and Kartik would strike the jackpot.

"Kartik, you'll be accompanying Gemma to the tailor's today. I need her measurements for the gown coming in from England." Mrs. Doyle had remarked bluntly without even glancing up from her tea cup.

Kartik sighed in annoyance but departed to go find the particular obnoxious redhead. When he found her looking rather nervous, Kartik was compelled to break the silence.

"So, which friends of yours do I have to babysit today?" Kartik questioned absent mindedly, staring yet again at the picture frames that decorated the shelves.

"None of them can make it. They're all busy." Gemma whispered, like she was talking to herself.

Kartik glanced at her, surprised at her words. Did that mean he'd finally get some alone time with her to talk? Then Gemma gasped, as if some brilliant thought occurred to her that hadn't before.

"Ann!" Gemma yelped with glee, throwing Kartik off guard.

A scowl marked his features and he grumbled under his breath at his terrible luck. It looked like today would be equally uneventful and his plans would only continue to stall. He inwardly cursed himself for allowing that night of passion to occur for the millionth time it seemed. He couldn't even really remember it and this made it even more wasteful.

Kartik sulked in the shade outside the Doyle household, awaiting his precious lady to arrive so that he could get the day over with. Gemma came out practically skipping in merriment, probably because she had just narrowly dodged alone time with the Indian boy. The whole carriage ride without Ann remained quiet and Kartik simply glared at Gemma, his dark eyes boring into her as if to be begging to be noticed. Yet, Gemma Doyle was on another planet; she hardly even noticed that he was sitting so close to her and that his intense gaze was fixed on her the whole time.

This only seemed to aggravate Kartik further; if this was to go on any longer, he would simply have to resort to some form of a plot in order to finally get her attention. He was in no particular mood for games and he would resort to any no good deed if he had to. Gemma Doyle would not stall his plans. He simply could not have that.

Gemma's smile seemed to grow wider as Ann hopped into the carriage looking as dull and dazed as she ever did. She, unlike Gemma, had taken notice of Kartik's foul mood. Pale blue eyes took in Kartik's rather frightening figure; a tall, dark Indian man with eyes filled with the intent of killing. Kartik did not find it surprising that Ann was quick to look away.

The rest of the ride was filled with gossip, but Kartik noted that it was useless gossip. Things that Gemma usually did not care for such as the latest fashions, what girl was wearing what abomination and what scandals enveloped the other rich families. And yet, it was as if Gemma was putting up some sort of front; an act. She looked extremely interested, chatting away with such intensity that Kartik could have sworn she was actually hiding something.

It was as if she was just waiting for the perfect moment to whisper a deep and dark secret to Ann without Kartik's notice. It was then that Kartik decided he had just about had enough of Gemma's little games. Tonight, he would find his answers and all would be resolved.

When they had reached the tailor, the girls were still chatting and, when he was escorted out seeing as how he was male AND Indian, he was absolutely furious. This was the exact opportunity that Gemma had probably been awaiting. Kartik kicked at the dirt angrily, wishing it would somehow alleviate the stress. And that was when he heard it.

"Stop! Stop that boy! Do not let him pass!" Kartik's head shot up at the sudden burst of yelling.

He looked around only to see the people around him equally confused by the outburst. As he looked again, he spotted people making way and being shoved by something...or someone it seemed. When the person managed to get near him, Kartik quickly stood in front, blocking his exit.

As expected, the boy bumped right into Kartik's chest, throwing him off balance. Kartik quirked up a dark eyebrow in curiosity, happy to have discovered a form of amusement in these dark times. He smirked as he recognized the familiar dusty brown hair and striking blue eyes that belonged to the boy he had tormented in the market previously. He offered a hand and the boy stared at it in speculation. When the guards could be heard yelling at the top of their lungs, a look of panic appeared on the boy's dirt covered features.

"If you want to be saved, take my hand." Kartik gestured with his hand, tempting the boy to take it.

Hesitantly, the boy did and Kartik lifted him back to his feet. For a moment, they stared at each other in mild curiosity.

"Where is he?! Which way did he go?! Answer me you filthy slum rat!" The guards' angry voices were growing near and Kartik expected the worst.

Quickly, he grabbed the boy's hand and ran through the streets, towing him behind at a ferocious speed he could not keep up with. There were moments where the boy tried to free himself of Kartik's grip but as the guards picked up their pace and noted the disturbances they had caused among the crowds, he was much more reluctant to let go. When they reached the slums, Kartik stopped, panting for air.

The boy fell on the floor, shaggy brown hair obscuring his face, taking in large amounts of air as quickly as he could. They heard the guards frantic footsteps rush and disappear past them on the opposite side of the wall.

"Thank you." The boy managed to whisper through gasps of air.

Kartik responded by stretching his legs but already, he had an idea in his head. He almost smiled sadistically at his new formed plan. He focused his gaze on the boy, taking in every detail. It was like he was sizing him up.

The boy stood up and brushed some dirt from his clothes to no avail. Then he looked at Kartik with those large blue eyes.

"No need to thank me." Kartik shrugged innocently as he too brushed off dirt from his clothes.

He had to do this fast; he was currently pressed for time. Kartik's brain kicked into high gear as he formulated and perfected his plan; perhaps this would be easy.

"Yes I do. You saved me. If they had caught me, I would be hanged for sure. I owe you." The boy said earnestly, looking at Kartik with gratefulness and admiration.

Kartik smiled at his words. Talk about playing directly into his hands.

"Well, perhaps you can help me with something then." Kartik grinned, yet again sizing the boy while he stared at him curiously.

Yes, this was going to be too easy, Kartik concluded.

* * *

Gemma was purely astonished that the Indian man had actually disappeared. Although she was actually counting on it this whole time, it had come so abruptly that she did not know what to make of it.

"Gemma, it's getting late. Perhaps we should just leave." Ann whined as she eyed the emptying streets.

The sun was beginning to set, concluding the heated Indian day but Gemma furrowed her eyebrows and gazed into the distance, peering and awaiting that familiar silhouette. Surely this was a good thing, she tried convincing herself. This was exactly what she had been aiming for from the beginning and it seemed that Kartik had finally given up out of sheer annoyance. So then, why was she still waiting for him, as if she knew he would come back?

Brief snippets of that night came back to her and she found herself shuddering at the intense feeling that left her skin in goose bumps. She shook it off as quickly as it came, hugging her arms in an attempt to stop it from spreading.

"Gemma?" Ann beckoned.

"Yes...I suppose we should get going." Gemma replied monotonously, her gaze still lingering on the burning sunset.

Ann sighed and entered the carriage while Gemma forced herself to do the same. Just as she set one foot inside, she took one more glance into the distance and noted a dark blur in the distance. She paused, squinting at the strange shape.

"Gemma! What is it?" Ann called, growing exasperated with her friend's lack of attention.

The dark shape grew closer until it became two distinct figures. Gemma slowly began to recognize the wild silhouette of dark, unruly curls. There was a wave from Kartik and then the two shapes broke into a run.

Unknowingly, Gemma broke into a smile. When she realized this, she immediately scowled. She had been hopeful that perhaps the Indian was gone for good. Or was she?

"Leaving without me, are you? Now, what would your grandmother have to say to that?" Kartik teased, grinning widely as he took in big gulps of air.

Gemma said nothing; she simply turned on her heel and made to speak with Ann. Except Ann wasn't looking at her at all. No, Ann's mouth was wide open and her eyes widened in admiration. Gemma was confused but turned around to see exactly what it was that had Ann so transfixed. Immediately, she blushed.

"Good evening, miss." The boy spoke, kneeling down to plant a delicate kiss on Gemma's gloved hand.

She stared at him with the same wide eyes that Ann had on. Soft brown hair combed back neatly and clean, piercing blue eyes staring through a tanned complexion, broad shoulders dressed smartly. As the boy stood back up smiling brightly, Gemma gave a suspicious glance at Kartik who was smirking the whole time.

"He's a friend I made while you two were busy. His name is Charlie." Kartik said, answering Gemma's question before she could ask it.

"That's nice. But we were just lea-"

"We were going for a walk! W-why don't y-you join u-us?" It was Ann that interjected.

Gemma stared at her friend with awe at her boldness. Kartik's smile only widened while Charlie nodded in agreement.

"I'd like that very much." He replied.

Gemma's scowl returned and she gave Kartik a murderous glare that only seemed to amuse him further. Somehow, Gemma knew he was up to something.

As they began to walk down the lonely street, Gemma noted that Charlie had begun to inch Ann farther and farther away from herself and Kartik. They were now a good distance away that Gemma could only hear their soft voices like a whisper that she could hardly make out.

For the first time in a good length of time, Gemma turned to face Kartik, "What are you up to now, you snake?!" She seethed.

Kartik threw his head back and let out a laugh he seemed to be holding back, "Who? Me? Why, Ms. Doyle, I'm not up to anything."

Gemma glared; she couldn't stand looking at him, couldn't stand being so close to him and now, he had forced her to speak to him. She was rather fine with his existence not impeding on her daily life. At least, when she was pretending he hardly even existed.

"You're a terrible liar, Kartik!" Gemma spat rather venomously.

"That may be true," He started; "or perhaps I simply wished to speak with you. And as you can see, it's working rather well."

"Well then, spit it out. Believe me; you won't be getting a chance like this any time in the near future so use it wisely." Gemma threatened, still not looking up at the conniving Indian man.

Another hearty laugh and Gemma was reminded of the chilly goose bumps that marred her skin. She shuddered and tried not to think of anything at all; instead she tried thinking of Simon but that only made her memories worse. Was she no longer safe even in her mind?

"Clearly, you are still upset about.." Kartik trailed off, treading carefully as he glanced at Gemma before continuing, "that night..."

Gemma would not meet his eyes but she did remain quiet and her posture seemed to stiffen at the mention of the accusing night.

"I wanted to apologize." Kartik spoke softly, still awaiting her reaction.

Gemma laughed bitterly. Kartik waited.

"Apologize? For what?" Gemma dared to question, although she already knew the answer.

Kartik cleared his throat, "Well...for allowing you to take advantage of me and not having a stronger will power to turn you away."

Gemma stopped walking and Kartik only turned to notice when he could not hear the sound of her matching footsteps.

She was practically snarling at him and Kartik wondered what he had said that seemed to have upset her so much. She then marched right up to him, her green eyes still glaring right into him, reminding him of the nightmares.

"How dare you!" She jabbed a finger right into his chest that actually caused him some pain.

"You are the one who has ruined me! You are the one who has destroyed my future and everything else in my life with it! Everything is your fault! You've taken what you cannot give back and yet you dare to accuse me of being the villain?!"

Gemma practically shook with the fury while Ann and Charlie had finally stopped to watch the commotion with curious faces. Kartik laughed which seemed to only anger Gemma further.

"Oh, please. As if you didn't enjoy it." Kartik teased.

Gemma was fuming, her face becoming as red as her hair.

"Stop it! Just stop! When will you realize that you are nothing more than a bloody baboon?! Simply because you can speak English does not make you anything like us! You and your people are hardly even human; you are disgusting slum rats, all of you! Have you no idea the shame?! Had it been an Englishman, I would not feel so wretched! But a bloody Indian! I am forever marred! Forever ruined! You selfish bastard!" Gemma beat her fists wildly against Kartik, tears spilling.

Kartik caught her wrists in an iron tight grip that was sure to leave bruises. Gemma looked up at him through tear filled eyes. She regretted this instantly. Kartik's expression had changed; he no longer wore the mask. His face conveyed a frightening fury that Gemma had never seen before. He was practically snarling at her, his dark eyebrows knitted together in such anger that Gemma was actually afraid of the man before her. Yet, looking into his eyes, she saw a flicker of deep hurt and sadness, the same she had seen after he had awoken in her bed. She knew she had gone too far; she had struck a nerve and this time, she would not be forgiven.

She closed her eyes, awaiting the pain, the insults and everything that came with Kartik's vengeful anger. When it didn't come, she found that the silence was killing her in worse ways. Instead, she felt her arms be released and, although she was relieved, confusion swept over her as she watched Kartik disappear down the same path he had come from.

His shoulders were hunched; his posture tense and she could have sworn he was shaking. As she watched his silhouette grow smaller and smaller, that unwanted feeling returned and, try as she might, Gemma couldn't fight it.

The reason why she had wanted to ignore him, the reason why she needed him to be away from her...was all due to the fact that she took comfort in his presence and she loathed herself for it every time.

* * *

**A/N: **_Not as long as the others but...it's still lengthy. I hope you guys enjoyed! Comments are always welcomed and appreciated so don't be shy. Yet again, sorry for the delays! Stupid school and work...I'll try to be faster with chapter ten! Promise!!!_


	10. Knight

**The Pretender**

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* * *

****A/N: **_All your reviews were lovely to read! Thanks for all the encouragement! So, without further delay, here's chapter ten!_

**WARNING: This may be a pretty disturbing chapter to some; some mild adult content. You were warned.**

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* * *

**_Song: _Deep Sorrow

_Artist: Shinhwa _

"_I think I found a flower in a field of weeds,  
searching until my hands bleed,  
this flower don't belong to me...  
why can't she belong to me?" _~ Billy Talent, Surrender

* * *

**Knight**

Three weeks. It had been exactly three weeks since Gemma had last seen Kartik. Three long weeks of getting hell from both her grandmother and father. Three weeks of a desperate search for a new chaperone. Three weeks of enthusiastic congratulations from her brother and friends on a fine way of ridding herself from 'filthy rat vermin'. Three aggravating weeks of what was supposed to be bliss but wasn't. Instead, Gemma found herself in a worse mood than ever, even if Simon had actually formally apologized to her the day before.

Why? Why was she feeling this way? That was the question that burned her each and every day. She loathed that Indian for making her life even more of a mess than it already was and yet, his lengthy absence worried her. She had thought him a terribly stubborn man with a will made of steel. She had figured that no matter what she dished out at him, he would react in his typical arrogant manner; laugh heavily and then offer her a sarcastic smile, one that mocked her futile attempts.

So when she finally managed to penetrate that gigantic wall that he seemed to put up most of the time, it was no surprise that she was taken aback by his reaction. She was so used to trying to break him and failing, that when she had finally gotten comfortable with having him around, she hadn't realized she'd actually accomplished exactly what she had wanted to do.

Therefore, Gemma was continuously in a sour mood, angry at herself for not being able to appreciate freedom, and angry at Kartik for not letting her even when his physical presence wasn't around.

"Gemma, you're making that face again." It was Felicity's voice that made Gemma wince back to reality.

Her blonde friend was staring at her with a bored expression while Ann and Pippa squealed over a box of cheap jewellery that an Indian vendor was trying to coax them into buying.

"What face?" Gemma questioned earnestly.

Felicity sighed and rolled her grey-blue eyes before adding, "Oh Gemma! You know perfectly well what face! You squint your eyes and furrow your eyebrows like you're glaring at something and then your lips twitch in a strange way, making you look like you're biting back a snarl!"

Gemma watched as Felicity played with her fine features, twisting them to imitate the 'face' that she claimed Gemma would be making.

Gemma waved her off and walked away as she said, "Whatever. I don't make that face."

"Yes you do! Pip, doesn't Gemma make that terribly ugly face?" Felicity chirped as she stared at the raven haired beauty with expecting eyes.

"Well, that isn't too difficult seeing as how Gemma isn't that pretty to begin with." Pippa added in absent-mindedly as she examined the look of a tacky ring on her finger.

Ann and Felicity immediately shot Gemma a shocked gaze, their eyes growing even wider when she didn't react. Usually, Gemma would snap back at Pippa and her hurtful remarks. It was annoying how blunt she would be with the others and Gemma would never take it. But, today, she just let it go. She was in no mood to argue. And besides, she wasn't exactly feeling too pretty to begin with.

"What is the matter with you, Gemma?! Ann, would you please snap some sense into the girl?!" Felicity barked, her eyes narrowing into angry slits in Gemma's direction.

"Gemma...Felicity's r-right. You're f-finally free of the Indian and you have Simon again. You should be happier." Ann pleaded.

Ever since Ann had gotten friendlier with Charlie, they heard less and less of her stutter. And yet, with the disappearance of Kartik came the disappearance of Charlie as well, causing Ann to revert to her old ways, even more so than before. If anything, it had brought down her self-confidence, her brain trying to sort out why he had vanished so abruptly and coming up with only one plausible answer; her lack of beauty.

Gemma pitied her friend and felt a tinge of guilt, wondering if Kartik was cold enough to actually seek to destroy her friend's happiness as well. Finally, Gemma smiled, shocking the two girls who were paying attention and causing a yawn to escape Pippa as she stared on at the scene.

"I am happy. Ecstatic actually," Gemma started, "so why don't we set off and enjoy this freedom while it lasts?"

Felicity practically bounced off the walls with the return of her friend, "Oh, finally, Gemma! I thought you'd never snap out of it!"

Gemma grinned and decided to lead the way. Who needed Kartik? Her friends were absolutely right. She had gotten her freedom, it was about time she enjoyed it.

* * *

"Wake up, Kartik! We shouldn't keep Priya and Puja waiting! I said get up, you lazy bastard!" It was Amar's voice that pounded in Kartik's ear as well as his brute force that was dragging him out of bed.

"They can wait another minute!" Kartik argued, stuffing his face back in his sheets.

"Kartik, if you do not get up right now, I will beat you so hard that you will not be able to sit or lay down for a solid week." Amar's threat lingered in the air.

Kartik didn't flinch.

Amar sighed and had raised his arm, ready to strike down on his brother's bare back. In that second, Kartik jolted out of bed, shielding himself behind his arms.

"Alright already! No need to bring out the whip!"

Amar laughed.

"Good. Now let's go."

It only took moments for Kartik to get ready, but he could already hear his brother's swoons at the sight of Puja from his window. He was beginning to think of his brother as a lap dog.

Finally, he stepped outside where the piercing glare of the sun hurt his head and his eyes.

"Good morning, Kartik!" It was Priya's voice that called out to him.

He supposed he was lucky enough that the girl was even giving him the light of day after the night he stood her up. She had accepted his apology immediately though and Kartik wondered just how strong her feelings were.

He looked at her and saw that she was smiling at him. He smiled back and waved before getting down to business. They were getting in a fresh shipment and needed some help with carrying the boxes and such. It was an easy job for easy money. Kartik couldn't argue. Lately, they were low on money. He was even contemplating selling a few of his stolen artefacts but then he would be revealed as the thief. So, he simply picked up odd little jobs and occasionally helped Amar out with their own shop stall.

He was actually grateful for these petty jobs. They helped take his mind off of other matters such as his failure with Gemma Doyle. Even at the thought, he felt his blood boil and rage burn inside of him. Her words never left him and he had a bad habit of replaying them over and over again, adding more fuel to the fire. What upset him even more was the fact that he would never find out what truly happened to his father and all because of a spoiled, white, rich girl.

He mulled over this fact repeatedly as he continued lifting and carrying boxes around Puja's small shop. As a consequence, he continued to wear a frown that grew angrier with each passing thought. It was Priya who was the only one paying attention to Kartik and noticed this.

"Kartik? Is everything alright?" She questioned innocently.

Kartik immediately snapped out of his reverie and looked on at Priya, taken aback by the sudden noise.

"Oh! Yes...why wouldn't it be?" He smiled cheekily before plopping the box down on top of the previous two he had carried.

Priya eyed him suspiciously with big brown orbs before adding, "Oh, nothing...it's just that you seem a little...distracted."

As she said this, she made sure to watch Kartik's expression carefully and decipher the man's emotions. Kartik just lifted up his shirt and wiped at his sweaty face with the flimsy material, not realizing the affect it had on Priya.

She watched with hungry eyes at the ripple of muscle on his taut stomach as well as the thin line of dark hair leading to an area she would enjoy exploring. When Kartik dropped his shirt, still sweating buckets with his dark hair pressed onto his sweat laden forehead, Priya was giggling.

Kartik quirked up a dark eyebrow, wondering what exactly the Indian girl was finding so amusing at a time like this. He also could have sworn there was a tinge of pink underneath her lightly tanned skin. Was she blushing?

"If you don't mind me asking Priya, what's so funny?" Kartik questioned before looking around the bustling marketplace, scouting for a joke he hadn't caught on to earlier.

"You have a very cute bellybutton, Kartik!" Priya said in between fits of laughter, the pink in her cheeks becoming brighter.

Kartik scratched the back of his head, not quite understanding her or the joke. He shrugged his shoulders and began making his way to another box.

"Wait!" It was Priya's voice that halted his steps.

He turned around to look at her only to notice her coming closer towards him. She had stopped laughing but the blush had not left. It was only then that Kartik seemed to take notice of her loveliness. Inky black hair fell straight down past her bosom, large brown eyes glittered with an emotion Kartik could not name, and her body was fit for a goddess'. She was no doubt, one of the most gorgeous Indian women of the village and possibly India.

"Kartik...May we talk? We haven't spoken in a while." Priya said shyly, fiddling with her sari.

"Sure."

Priya smiled at his agreement.

"Any excuse to avoid working." Kartik grinned and Priya nudged him with her elbow playfully.

"What's on your mind?"

"I was just wondering...you used to be so busy before. You were hardly ever home. What was keeping you so occupied?" Priya questioned.

"Oh...nothing, really. Just working and making money. I found a good paying job as a servant but..." Kartik winced at the memory of the painful sting from Gemma's words.

Priya caught on to this and pressed further, "But what? What happened?"

Kartik was quick to change his attitude, successfully masking the hurt and anger, "Nothing! I just quit. You know me; I can't stand those English. Could you imagine serving them? Me? Kartik? Serving the bloody English? It just wasn't a job for me."

Kartik was laughing, his speech spoken a bit too fast to trick Priya into believing him. She looked away, sadness evident in her eyes.

"Is that really the truth, Kartik?" She said in a small, soft voice.

"What? Of course it is! Why would I lie?"

"Perhaps you lie to protect me. Kind of like how you protected me back when we were children." Priya whispered, a smile gracing her full lips.

Kartik looked away, remembering the event all too clearly. Just one of the many times he had been beaten to a bloody pulp as a child.

"I have no reason to lie, Priya."

"Kartik...I know what it is that's eating you alive inside. I know, because I too have been through it." Priya exclaimed, growing frustrated with the man before her.

"Oh, do you? Then do explain." Kartik said icily.

"Love, Kartik. It was a woman who was keeping you busy all those many nights and it was a woman that made you irrational!" Priya spat back, the hurt showing itself in form of tears.

"Pff." Kartik almost snorted out into laughter, too knocked off his feet by her accusation to even respond.

"Laugh all you like. But I know what a man's face looks like after a woman leaves him."

Kartik stopped laughing immediately at the seriousness in Priya's voice. He watched her angry face and knew she was about to slap him hard across the face with her words.

"Kartik, you are wearing that face. The face of a man rejected and scorned by his lady."

Before he could even have the sense back in him to argue with her, Priya had stormed off, but not before giving Kartik a glimpse of her sad eyes; eyes that were watery and on the brink of breaking.

"What's all the yelling about?" It was Puja that had picked up on the sudden amount of noise.

Amar was standing directly behind her, dark eyes scanning for Priya and when the realization hit him, he directed his accusing glare at his younger brother.

Kartik sighed and sat down on one of the many piled boxes. How much more abuse was he going to take? Every woman had yelled at him and abused him. Even his mother. He wouldn't be all too surprised if Puja wanted to have a go.

"I don't know. I have no idea what just happened." Kartik said and it had to have been the most honest thing he had ever spoken ever since his oath for revenge.

"Kartik, if you do-"

Amar paused. There was a change in the marketplace. Kartik had taken notice as well. He immediately stood up and browsed the crowds, eyes of a hunter scanning for prey.

Puja was the only one out of the loop; "What? What is wrong with the two of you?!"

But it had come. There was definitely a shift in the atmosphere. The bustling in the crowd was changing. Panic. Fear. Whatever it was, it was making its way to this part of the market. Kartik watched, as if time had stopped, as every person grew into a mode of excitement and fear. The rebellious part in each browned face was shining through and Kartik, if anyone, could pick up on that rage faster than anyone.

He leapt over the stall counter and grabbed the nearest man trying to run forward. He hooked him by his collar and lifted him off the ground, the man's feet dangling in the air. Both Amar and Puja watched him with horrified eyes as the fire burning inside of Kartik consumed and became whole.

"Tell me. Tell me everything. Now." It was all Kartik managed to say through a snarl.

But the man understood perfectly and seemed to cower at Kartik's murderous glare. He moaned and whimpered while trying to fight Kartik's grip on his shirt. Kartik's fingers dug into the thing material before he brought his venomous face closer.

"Speak now. Or I'll end your life right here."

It was all he needed.

* * *

It was Felicity's idea. It was always Felicity's idea. Because only Felicity would think of something so dangerous and so mischievous and only Felicity would be brave enough to put it through. Yet, it was the combination of Pippa and Felicity that made the idea seem more alluring. Why did they have to be so bloody convincing? It was a gift and those two complimented one another. Yet, then again, Gemma hadn't exactly been too hesitant either.

The idea was to sneak into the poor district and explore the market there. Apparently there was a forbidden book that Felicity wanted to get her hands on and only the 'filthy scum', as she put it, would sell it to her. Normally, Gemma would have taken Anne's side; it was too risky and far too dangerous.

But there was a hope in Gemma, one she could not deny no matter what; Kartik. She may have a glimpse of the man who had been consuming her thoughts. Why he was doing this to her, she did not know but no matter how much she had tried putting him out of her mind, he would find a way of prying back in. The sneaky bastard.

Sometimes she wondered if it had something to do with him taking her virtue while other times she blamed it on her yearning for vengeance. Either way, she needed to confront him and do something about it before it ate her alive. For this opportunity, she had not found Felicity's idea to be all that outrageous as she should have. Perhaps this was why she had not fought it as hard as she could have, leaving Anne on her own.

"Gemma! Would you stop falling behind! If you move any slower, they'll discover us and I will more than gladly sacrifice you in our stead. So get moving!" It was Felicity's voice hissing at Gemma from underneath the cloak.

Gemma's cloak smelled of rotting curry and maggots. They had bought the rags earlier and were using them to disguise themselves as beggars. It was the only way they would be able to get away with hiding their eyes and hair. The hoods completely obscured their faces, so much so that they could hardly see where they were going.

People brushed past them hastily and Gemma wondered how on earth she expected to find Kartik in this huge mass of people. She was finding it difficult enough to see her friends, let alone start searching for another person among the crowds. She tried anyways, looking around. It was when she bumped into a broad chest that caused her to stumble and almost lose her balance. The man had continued to walk and all Gemma managed to catch was his back; broad and hunched, like a hunter's. He had a mass of rough dark curls and was wearing a torn t-shirt and a pair of dirty slacks.

It was him; it had to have been. Gemma's heart was caught in her throat for she didn't know what to do.

"Gemma! Psst, Gemma! Over here!" It was Felicity hissing at her from a shop stall.

Gemma looked at her friend and then quickly back at the man. Gemma pushed past bodies and followed him, deciding her friend could wait. If she didn't confront him now, she may not get another chance. So, she continued to follow him until he made a sharp turn towards a shop stall that had caught his interest.

Slowly, she meandered towards it, bringing her hood closer to her head. When she was standing right next to him, she watched his hands rifle through the junk displayed on the table. They were hands that had obviously experienced labour from a young age. Gemma began having doubts about the man. Carefully, cautiously, she looked up at his face, being careful not to reveal her own face.

Her heart thumped loudly in her ears but as she took in his facial features, she knew she had the wrong guy. His features were far more aged and his lips were nowhere near anything like Kartik's. Even his eyes were a darker shade of brown. Frustrated, Gemma left the stall, feeling stupid and shameful for what she had done.

That was when she was grabbed into a dark alleyway. It was so sudden that she almost screamed. She came tumbling to the floor as the hand let go of her. Gemma was just about to let out a bloodcurdling scream when a familiar voice spoke up, "Shh! Gemma, it's just me!"

Gemma squinted as her eyes focused on the figure before her. Careful pale hands removed the hood from the face and revealed Pippa's beautiful features and violet eyes.

"Pippa? What's going on? Where's Ann and Felicity?" Gemma squeaked, still trying to calm her thundering heartbeat.

"I'm right here." It was Ann's voice that Gemma heard.

Just as she spoke she also came out, her hood removed as well. Gemma's eyes flickered from Ann to Pippa and then back.

"Where's Felicity? Why are we hiding here?" Gemma questioned, lifting herself off of the dirty ground.

Ann and Pippa looked at each other wearily and Gemma could have sworn she saw fear in their eyes. That was when Gemma heard it; the screaming. It was so loud, so close. She looked on into the light of the alleyway and saw feet. People were running. Panic settled in and Gemma grew fearful; something wasn't right.

The people weren't screaming. They were yelling in Hindi but it was muffled by the petrified screaming that Gemma couldn't pick up on any of it. The shrieking was coming from someone else. Gemma only needed to look at Pippa's face to understand who it was that was screaming and if she listened closely enough, she could hear what was being screamed. Help.

"It's Felicity! Felicity is in trouble! Why are we still standing here?! We have to go get to her!" Gemma found herself frantically shouting at her two reluctant friends.

"Gemma...we can't." Ann said softly, looking at her feet as she did so.

"What...? Why can't we?" Gemma's eyes widened.

When her two friends said nothing but looked at the crowd with teary eyes, Gemma had had enough of their cowardice.

"Fine. You two stay here then. I'm going to find out what's going on."

Gemma was so agitated at her friends; how could they abandon Felicity like that when she would never have done that to them? Besides, whatever it was, it was probably nothing that Felicity couldn't wiggle her way out of. Or so Gemma had thought until she saw with wide-eyed horror exactly what was wrong with her blonde friend.

* * *

Kartik was running. He was running as fast as he could. His hand was stinging from the slaps he had given the man. No matter how hard he hit him, he would not break. Kartik had picked the wrong guy. Fearing for time, Kartik had dropped the man in a crumpled heap and followed the crowd instead. Surely, they were heading towards _something_, that much Kartik was certain of.

When the crowds stopped and Kartik saw nothing, he pushed and shoved past the bodies, not caring for their insults and angry voices. Instead he focused on picking up on their comments, hoping for a form of a clue as to what all the fuss was about. That was when he smelt it; blood accompanied with death.

There was a lot of it, too and as Kartik drew nearer, the smell grew stronger until Kartik had to pinch his nose to keep from tasting it.

"Kill the witch! Burn the English!"

"Let us rise!"

"Let those English dogs watch! So they understand our suffering when they take our wives and daughters!"

Kartik's ears were ringing from all the noise and cheering. As he finally got close enough to see what was going on, he could feel the bile rise up to his throat. This was disgusting.

He could see what was causing the stench of rotting death now clearly. Soldiers. English and Indian soldiers lay dead on the ground. It was made like an arena, vicious looking Indian men keeping the crowd at bay while more held soldiers with a knife at their throats. Disgusting. Kartik recognized the symbol tattooed on the man's forehead.

A rebel group. Lately, there were many of those popping up. Kartik was getting sick of them as they were beginning to get in his way with the thieving. To think, people suspected these cockroaches to be a legendary thief and hero. He wanted to spit at the ground just at the thought.

But that wasn't what disgusted him the most. No, Kartik was so shocked by what he saw next that for once, he did not know what to do. There was a girl in the middle of all the death and blood. Her clothes were ripped and torn apart, revealing fair skin that should have been covered. She was an English girl. Her platinum blonde hair and clothing gave her away. But not just any English girl; it was Felicity Worthington.

Kartik swallowed hard as a bead of sweat rolled the side of his head nervously. His breath caught as he noted she was covered in blood and that her breasts were totally exposed. Her face was tear-streaked and her eyes had turned so red that he wondered how she even had anymore tears. She was lying on the dirty floor, shaking out of her mind as an Indian man jeered with the crowd.

The people raised their fists into the air in unison, cheering and chanting as the man continued to laugh cynically. His face was so scarred up, he hardly any distinguishable features left. He had only one good eye, the other was masked by a black bandana tied at an angle to cover it. His hair was shirt and buzzed with the group tattoo shining on his large forehead. He was big; muscles rippling and beginning to rip through his cheap shirt.

He proved his strength when he grabbed a handful of Felicity's blonde locks and lifted her up until her feet dangled. He brought her face to his and he spat at her. Kartik's fists clenched.

"Gemma! Gemma, help me..." Felicity cried, tears still streaking her face as the spit trailed down her nose to her open mouth.

Kartik froze. His head spun around frantically, looking for that familiar red hair. Finally, he spotted her amongst the crowd; the girl had been foolish enough to heed to her friend's cries. She had removed her hood, the sun glinting off fiery hair that was too hard to miss amongst the dark heads.

_"Stupid girl!" _Kartik thought as he pushed his way towards her urgently before everyone had caught on.

Felicity let out a sharp cry as the man tore off her undergarments, drawing Kartik's attention away for a split second. This was becoming a big mess and Kartik had a bad feeling he was going to be the one cleaning it up. It only took that split second for Gemma to be noticed enough to get captured.

_"Damn it!" _Kartik cursed inwardly, slowly getting his feathers ruffled more and more.

"Look what we have here! Two English bitches who thought they could fool us! Well, shall I teach them both a lesson?!" Scarface mocked as the crowd cheered at his question.

Earlier, Kartik would have jumped in quickly and done something. But he wasn't her chaperone anymore. He had nothing to do with her and after what she had said to him, he figured she probably deserved what she was about to get. He turned his back to her, ready to leave and not wanting to watch.

"Kartik! Kartik, please! Please, do something!"

He paused.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

A slap to the face interrupted her. Kartik didn't move. She was sobbing now, still fighting their grasp on her. Another slap. More cheering. But Kartik was rooted to the spot. His mind was stilled. He was torn. Everything he was taught indicated he had to do something. It would be what his father would want. After all, he had died and that girl had played a part in the reason. So she was valuable. If she had been important to his father, then she was important to Kartik as well. But his pride was telling him otherwise, reminding him of those words and the hate pulsating through them. How they had stung when she whipped them at him. But she had apologized, had she not?

She did apologize.

Felicity was screaming and whimpering. Kartik turned around, slowly. The man's fingers were all over her body. With every touch, she lost more of her sanity and more of her soul. He hated the English but doing this...didn't make them any better at all.

His decision was made. Kartik picked up a stone, and then another and another until he had a good handful. With great care, he aimed. And he fired. Each stone landed directly onto the men's foreheads, right on their rebel marks. They flinched, looking around trying to figure out where the rocks were coming from. The crowd went silent and all that was heard was the quiet sobbing coming from Felicity. Even Gemma had stilled.

"Show your face, you scoundrel! Watch as I will rip you apart and into pieces that not even your mother will recognize you!" It was the leader's booming voice again.

He was no holding a knife to Felicity's throat and his beady eyes seemed to be moving around frantically, widened and eager to pick up on the stone thrower. Kartik climbed up onto a stall and therefore, drew everyone's attention to him. He smiled and threw another stone right at the leader's head.

"You sure are a boring bunch for rebels. Is this all you can do? Pick on weak little English girls? Bah! And you call yourself men? Pfft, my mother can hit harder than you!" Kartik shouted, peeling over in laughter.

Kartik could see Gemma in the corner of his eye and if he didn't know any better, he thought she was smiling.

"If you are a real man, then you'd come down here and fight properly!" The leader shouted, spitting everywhere as he tried to contain his anger.

"No. How about if YOU want to prove what a strong man you are, you come and get ME? After all, it is you who needs to prove yourself, not I." Kartik shouted back.

The leader snarled and pulled Felicity's head back by her hair, causing her to scream. He pointed his knife at Kartik and said, "Get him! Bring me back his head if you must! I do not care if he's dead or alive!"

Great. Things were going as planned. Three men stepped away from the crowd, their knives shining underneath the sunlight.

"Hah! You're going to send only three little weak men after me?! You insult me! Send them all and I'll be the one to return their heads to you." Kartik laughed, further aggravating the leader.

"Why you...Watch what they'll do to you! Get him! NOW!" The leader yelled at more of the men to chase Kartik.

Just before the chase started, Kartik's eyes glazed over the crowd until he spotted his brother. Amar looked at him with weary eyes that told him he was going to get it after all this. Amar sighed and nodded at him, Puja beside him looking frantically on at the scene and back at Kartik.

Amar would hold his own, Kartik wasn't worried. It was the trash that was quickly approaching him he was more concerned with. In his mind, time was slowed and Kartik jumped, taking off into the air, knowing that death was at his back. It wasn't the knives that frightened him; it was her eyes as they watched him go, as if she could see right through him. It was those eyes he felt as he led the men to their death.

* * *

**A/N: **_My God that took a while. Will an apology be enough? I swear I have a good reason! I wrote the chapter once, read it a few days later, despised it and deleted the entire thing. So you could imagine how much I didn't want to write it anew, so upset with myself for screwing it up once. Anyways...comments of any kind are always welcome. Hope you enjoyed!_


	11. Beginnings

**The Pretender**

**

* * *

****A/N: **_You guys are so supportive! I'm very, truly touched. Especially since this is my very first fan fiction. Thanks so much! I take each and every review to heart, so it does mean a lot. Well, before I get teary eyed, here's chapter eleven! P.S...sorry about the cliffie. :)_

_Inspiration: _I will marry Marlon Teixeira. I swear it. He is my Kartik. =)

* * *

_Song: _Broken Strings

_Artist: _James Morisson ft. Nellie Furtado

"_With the moon, I run far from the carnage of the fiery sun..."_~ Kings of Leon, Closer

* * *

**Beginnings**

Kartik took a few blows. They hurt like hell. But he knew he had to let the scumbags get in a few punches to make all of this even remotely believable. Already, he could feel the bruises on his torso as the men kicked at him as hard as they could. Another had taken a seat right on top of his chest, throwing his fist directly into Kartik's face, repeatedly.

Kartik could imagine how swollen his face probably looked at this point. To return the favour, he spat crimson fluid directly onto the face of the man on top of him. He wiped at it and then glared at Kartik with ferocious eyes. More kicks. Somehow, this all seemed familiar. He'd been in this position many times in the schoolyard. Like a reverie, it came back to him.

It took the shine of a blade to get Kartik back to reality where his body was currently immersed in a significant amount of pain. The man on top of his chest was just about ready to cut open his jugular. A surge of strength, rooted deep within the confines of his very being, exploded all throughout his body, sparking all the way down to his fingers and toes where the energy tingled and twitched. It was fuelled by his anger, his hatred and his desperate need for revenge. With a heavy grunt, Kartik sat up, shoving the man with the blade directly off of him.

Another who had been kicking him previously, tried grappling him by the neck, his thick arms wrapping around Kartik much like a constrictor. With a deep growl, Kartik found his strength and stood up, lifting the man up with him. He rushed backwards, smacking the man clinging on to him roughly into the alley wall. The man let out a groan of pain but Kartik wasn't satisfied; he did it again and again until he heard a few snaps. The man, now unconscious, lay in a heap on the floor.

But Kartik's battle wasn't over. He had an edge now, having taken all the others by complete surprise. They glanced between him and their now dead friend with horrified eyes. It only took a second for them to react though, but Kartik was faster. He grabbed the man with the blade by the neck, Kartik's grip deadly and cutting off all circulation of both air and blood.

"Stop! Come any closer and I'll snap his neck, as I will do with the rest of you!" Kartik threatened, his rage taking over his entire spirit.

He was seething, his face a bloody mess but his voice held a certain amount of venom that not many got a chance to hear. As the men drew nearer, Kartik's grip grew stronger and tighter, causing the man to squirm and leaving him to drop his blade as he attempted to break free. It was no use though; the man scratched and clawed at the hand encasing his throat but Kartik didn't even flinch as the skin tore and fresh blood oozed.

His eyes remained fixed on the other men approaching. They each drew their dagger, but Kartik could smell the fear on them like their skin reeked of it. After the man in his grip weakened his assault, Kartik threw him hard into the wall with a menacing howl, where he lay right next to his friend. Then he turned and looked on at the others still standing, trying desperately to make his point clear before he made any real attempts to killing them.

"Take one more step towards me and I'll be sure to make it your last! Don't test me!" Kartik seethed, his hands clenched into bloody fists.

The men slightly cowered and moved back; one of them even began to whimper; "W-What are you?!"

His knife fell onto the ground and Kartik could now smell urine, fresh and warm. He smiled. And before he knew it, he was cackling like a mad man while they all dropped their weapons and ran as fast as their legs would carry them. His laughter grew louder, chasing them all the way through the dark alleyway. It took Kartik a long time to stop and realize exactly what had happened to him.

-

Uniforms. British uniforms surrounded Gemma and Felicity. Her lip was still bleeding and she could still feel the tingle from the slaps like fresh little knives jabbing at her face. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were dirty and ripped. But Gemma could care less about her own sufferings; her eyes were focused on Felicity. Or whatever remained of Felicity.

For the blonde girl lying on the floor in a heap was most certainly not the same courageous Felicity that was friends with Gemma. No, this girl looked like she had been bent and broken in a dozen different ways and could hardly keep it together. She had been given a jacket from a soldier and had used it to cover up as much of herself as possible but the damage had been done. And only Gemma seemed to notice that.

"Move along, nothing to see here!"

"Return to your homes, now!"

The soldiers were shooing away the crowds until hardly anyone was left. The only Indian man who hadn't been kicked away like a dog, was currently talking to a soldier in accented English. Gemma stared at him through tired eyes and noted that his features were handsome. He reminded her of Kartik if only older with a little dusting of facial hair. But they shared the same eyes. Those same eyes that Gemma was sure she'd seen before somewhere.

"Thank you for your assistance today, Amar. I have no idea what we would have done had you not interfered. Mr. Worthington will see to it to properly thank you and your family."

"Ah, there is no need for such a thing. That man is a wanted criminal and, having once been a soldier myself, I was obligated to act." Amar's voice was deep and rich and Gemma had a feeling that he was most certainly a ladies' man.

His smile would probably melt the hearts of girls everywhere; Indian and English. He had been brave, as well. When Kartik had distracted the leader, Amar had sent someone to fetch more authorities while he took on the leader himself, with nothing but his fists. He had suffered a few cuts from the knife but he had managed to keep the beefy muscle-head occupied long enough to save Felicity and Gemma.

As the men talked and soldiers cleaned up, still shooing away spectators, Gemma could have sworn she had heard a howl or a scream in the distance. But no one else seemed to take notice and so, Gemma concluded that it was her imagination. Yet, she couldn't help but let her eyes wander towards the direction that Kartik had vanished from. With a pained expression, she wondered if he was still alive.

"G-...Gemma..." It was Felicity's voice, muffled by her sobs that brought Gemma's attention back to where it needed to be.

She looked at her friend, really looked at her, and saw in her face exactly the amount of damage that had taken place. Her hair was a disaster, blonde curls sticking to her tear streaked complexion. Her cheeks were puffy and pale, she had a bloody nose that left a trail of dried crimson going down her chin and her eyes leaked continuously, as if they could never stop. But what broke Gemma the most was that Felicity, sitting on the dirty ground, looking as pathetic as she did, was reaching out her shaking arms towards her friend.

Gemma knelt next to her and embraced her, allowing Felicity to bury her head into the safe confines of her bosom. Gently, Gemma ran her fingers through her pale blonde curls, hushing her like she would a child.

"Here's some water. Feel free to give her as much as she needs." Amar's voice came up behind Gemma, startling her almost completely out of her wits.

She looked at him as he bent down and offered a worn out leather pouch, his head blocking the sun and creating a temporary shade. His straight black hair fell forward and he wore a compassionate smile that even showed in his eyes. Those eyes...

Gemma took the pouch from him before adding, "Thank you. This is very kind of you."

He stood up and laughed, a hearty laugh that Gemma would have found contagious had she not been in the ordeal she was currently in.

"Yes, well...I only offered you and your friend some nourishment. My brother, on the other hand, has offered you his life, it seems. So perhaps you should save your thanks for him."

Gemma froze. Amar was Kartik's brother? Well, it did make sense considering their features were similar, except for the hair and the nose. But the lips and the eyes were identical. Gemma found herself flushing with embarrassment as she took in this new fact.

"I...I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that Kartik had a brother." She said, evidently flustered.

"Why am I not surprised?" Amar laughed again and Gemma almost smiled before remembering herself.

"Anyways, offer the girl some water otherwise she'll cry herself dry. I'd escort you ladies home but..." He trailed off, his gaze flickering over the spot Kartik had stood on earlier, offering his life for Gemma's safety.

Immediately, Gemma knew that he was worried for his brother, despite his positive demeanour. Guilt swept over her instantly; if Kartik didn't return or if anything terrible happened to him, it was no doubt that it was her fault. After all, she had so selfishly called out to him.

"Ah, don't worry for my brother! He may be as reckless as he is stupid but if it's one thing he's good at, it's taking care of himself. Right now, just focus on getting your friend home safely." Amar smiled at Gemma before walking off towards the group of soldiers still trying to get rid of the mess left behind.

Somehow, Gemma felt that Amar's words were more of a reassurance for himself rather than her.

* * *

Kartik was struggling to get to his feet. His head was spinning out of control and he was dipping in and out of consciousness. His breaths came in heavy and laboured and his entire body was coated in a cold sweat. He had torn up his clothes to make the fight seem more devastating but his appearance and condition should have been more than enough evidence for that. He hadn't realized how severe the beating he had received was until all his rage had disseminated.

Then the pain hit in one big wave, leaving Kartik doubled over in agony. He stumbled along the alleyway, clutching at his ribs as each sharp intake of breath left him in immense pain. He didn't have to be a genius to realize he'd broken a few of them.

When he finally saw the light, marking the entrance into the dark alleyway, he hurried towards it as fast as his weakened legs could go. He clung to the wall for balance and shut his eyes as the fierce sunlight pierced him.

"Kartik!"

It was Amar's voice he heard before he collapsed onto the ground on his knees, the world spinning around him. And then he dropped onto the dirt ground, face first. All he saw was black...black and haunting green. The colors swirled and danced with each other in his head until he too, became a part of them. They cradled and swaddled him, protecting him, even as a small child. Beaten and bruised but it didn't matter; the little boy was resting. For once, he was at rest.

* * *

Amar was pacing. Priya was on the verge of tears. Puja was watching Amar with cautious eyes. Aisha, Kartik and Amar's mother, was cradling her head in her hands, trying to stop the soft whimpers escaping her. And then there was Gemma; so vibrant and so out of place among these people. But she wouldn't leave; she couldn't leave. They had tried persuading her. Told her she should have run home to daddy where she would no longer be their problem.

She knew what they had been implying, those two Indian girls. An English girl in the house of a poor Indian family was definitely not a welcomed idea. Amar had offered to escort her home, in his soft and kind voice. But she had declined. After all, this was all her fault. Kartik was lying in his deathbed because of her. She wouldn't be able to have a clear conscience if she didn't witness everything with her own eyes. So, whether she was wanted or not, she was going to stay until Kartik opened his eyes. It was the least she could do after everything he'd done for her.

The sudden outburst of a cry made everyone in the room twitch. For Priya, it was all she needed to bury her head into her lap where Gemma presumed she kept her tears silent. Amar cursed and resumed his pacing after running a hand through dark hair. Even Puja seemed to flinch at the noise.

The cry was not a normal sound. Every now and then, they would hear it. The first time Kartik yelled that loud, they had all rushed to his room where the village doctor was busy healing him. The men who had accompanied the healer were blocking the doorway but Gemma would never forget what she saw. Kartik was writhing in pain on the bed. His body arched upwards and his eyes were shut tight in agony. He twisted and turned as his mouth remained open, letting out the most horrible yell. It sounded, to Gemma's ears, like a man dying a slow and terrible death. His face was bruised and beaten, covered in a high amount of sweat, dark curls sticking to it. But his body was a bloody mess. Gemma had to look away before she vomited.

The mere memory of it made Gemma queasy. And every time he let out that horrible sound, it seemed to impact everyone in the room in a similar manner. It was like they could see him in that bed; blood smeared everywhere as he fought blindly with the healer, begging him to stop while he tore up his insides.

Kartik let out another moan that escalated and then died down to a whimper. Gemma tasted bile in the back of her mouth. The cycle seemed to continue in this way. The amount of tension in the room only got worse as time passed. Amar had approached Gemma when night struck.

"You should rest. If you would like, you may sleep. I will arrange a bed for you."

Gemma had shaken her head stubbornly, thanking Amar for his concern. He had given her a tiresome look, disappointed in her decision. But he left her alone anyways. How would she even try to sleep with Kartik, in his fever-like state, crying out like that every so often? She'd be lucky if she managed to sleep through even one of them.

But as time passed, Gemma did find herself growing more and more tired. Wounds she thought were not that bad seemed to awaken in the night, allowing their presence to be known in various sores and body aches. She desperately needed sleep. Before she knew it, she was dozing off.

It was Amar that had cared enough to awaken her when the healer had finished whatever it was he had been doing. Gemma didn't really want to know all the gory details anyways. She bolted upright, much like everyone else when the elderly Indian man stepped into the dim living room candlelight. He was short and very wrinkly with no hair whatsoever except for his white beard. His clothing was stained with blood and Gemma didn't need to be a genius to understand it was Kartik's.

When he spoke, he spoke in Hindi and Gemma had to use her poor language skills to decipher what it was he was saying. She squinted as if that would improve her hearing; she made out the words blood, food, sleep and something about praying at the temple. None of this made much sense to Gemma. She was hoping to catch the words "dead" or "alive".

After the healer had finished, Amar and Aisha both bent down and kissed his feet. Then, he and his servants used the door and left, just like that. Gemma rushed up to Amar, the only person in the room who knew any English.

"What is it? What happened? Is Kartik alright? Should they really have just left like that? What if he needs treatment later?" Gemma spewed out the questions fast, her heart racing inside her chest as she awaited an answer.

Amar looked at her and tried to put on a smile before patting her head of unruly red curls; "Kartik needs to rest. He's been through a lot tonight but...we are confident he will awaken."

It was all he gave her. It was very little but Gemma at least knew that, right as of now, Kartik was still breathing. And that was all that mattered.

Aisha went in to see her son and Gemma longed to follow but Priya and Puja stopped her, both looking at Amar so that he could explain.

"It is unwise to go in after her. He is the baby of the family and my mother gets very emotional. It is best to let her have some alone time with him."

Gemma swallowed hard, feeling her cheeks go red, and nodded in understanding. She backed off and slumped down against the wall, hugging herself as she did so. She was tired, sore, hungry, dirty and unhappy. Her clothes were still torn apart and she could have sworn something was moving in her hair. What she would have given for a hot bath and a good night's sleep.

She drifted in and out of sleep, waking up to notice that Kartik's bedroom door was still closed. She lost sense of time as she fought with her body's urge to sleep. It was when she heard the door creak open that she opened her eyes immediately. She saw the remains of a floating sari escape through the crack of the open door.

She got up quietly and gently eased the door open if only enough just to peek. She blushed when she saw Priya kissing Kartik softly on his swollen lips. She was going to look away but Priya had pulled back and Gemma felt curiosity overwhelm her as well as another emotion she couldn't really name.

Priya sat there stroking Kartik's dark curls so that they no longer stuck to his sweaty face. Her eyes were watery but she was smiling at him; a smile Gemma thought so intimate that even if she had walked right in and made all the noise she could, Priya wouldn't even have flinched. It was as if no one else existed but Kartik. That was how she smiled at him. That was how she gazed at him.

Gemma's heart ached. As Priya bent down, obscuring Kartik's face with her long dark hair, Gemma backed away. She contemplated leaving. She clearly didn't belong here. No one wanted her there. She doubted Kartik would wake up and be happy to see her. She could see the scorn in his eyes already. Why was she even here? She could simply leave into the night and no one would even notice she was gone.

She slumped down onto the floor again and hugged herself, burying her head into her lap. Long blood red curls fell past her pale shoulders, tickling the exposed flesh of her arms. Even if she stayed, what would she say to him? Would she request for him to come back and be her chaperone? He'd question her; why? Why did she want him back after all she'd said to him? She couldn't tell him the truth; she couldn't say that the reason she wanted him back was because when he wasn't there, everything seemed out of place.

She couldn't admit that his absence worried her and made her hate him, miss him and want him all at the same time. How could she explain something to him she herself had no explanation for?

Gemma fell asleep to the questions in her head and a silent sobbing noise that she refused to believe was coming from her.

* * *

Kartik was awake. Unfortunately. The moment he had opened his eyes, the pain came back to him in waves. Through watery eyes, he glanced at his naked torso only to witness it was bandaged. He collapsed back into his bed and let out a loud cry.

It took only seconds for him to hear the maddening shuffle of feet making their way to his room. The door swung open and his mother came running in immediately.

"Kartik!" She embraced him in a squeeze of a hug.

Kartik pushed her off as he felt the pressure on his ribs increase, as well as the pain. He coughed and choked for a few minutes in the bed. Everyone was silently watching him. After his fit, he eyeballed everyone; Amar was looking at him worry in his eyes. Priya was biting her lower lip nervously and Kartik thought she was about to burst into tears. His mother looked so happy, she was going to cry.

Then there was Gemma. Kartik's eyes widened in complete disbelief as he took in the sight of her. He sat up in bed a little too quickly and winced as the pain was sharp and radiating.

"Y-you!" He pointed at her, instantly drawing everyone's attention.

Gemma looked up at him, green eyes rimmed with red. Her lip was cut and dirt still stained her face. There was a bruise turning purple on her cheek. Red, flaming hair was messy and uncombed, hanging loose down her back. Kartik looked around the room afterwards, taking in the shocked faces.

"Everyone. Out." Kartik ordered in Indian, pointedly looking at Amar and his mother.

When they didn't listen, Kartik let out a loud, "NOW!"

Gemma stared in confusion as Amar, Aisha, Puja and Priya made their exit past her. Figuring Kartik was simply tired and wanted to rest, Gemma was going to follow suit when his voice stopped her.

"Not you. You stay and close the door."

She turned and looked at him only to notice he was deadly serious. Quickly, she closed the door, receiving strange looks from Priya and Aisha as she did so.

"Come here."

Kartik stretched out his arm, signalling with his hand for her to move closer to him. Hesitantly, she took a few steps towards him. When she paused halfway, he urged her forward again until she was at the edge of his bed.

"Sit." He patted a spot next to him, where his legs lay covered by the blanket.

She looked on at him with curious eyes, wondering what he was going to do. Gemma braced herself for a slap or some form of abuse.

When it didn't come, she stared at Kartik, who was lying back in his bed with a sarcastic smile on his beaten face. Gemma noted the swellings had gone down but his lips were still raw. She fought back a blush as she remembered the night with Priya.

"So, why on earth are you still here?" Kartik spoke, breaking the silence.

Gemma stuttered, twiddling her fingers nervously, "I...well...you were hurt. You came out of that alley and collapsed. I just had to..."

Words were escaping her as she tried to form a coherent excuse. She knew this moment would come but it had been easier in her mind, where she had practiced.

"I'd laugh at you right now. But I know if I do, I'll regret it." Kartik joked, still smiling smugly.

Gemma flushed and tucked a loose red curl behind her ear, remembering when he had done the same motion. It had angered her so much then but now, looking back at it, it only made her ears tingle.

"You should have gone home. I did what I did so that you could escape. But, like some fool, here you are. Do you want to be killed? Because I can't guarantee anything right now in my current condition."

Gemma clutched at the blankets as she looked at Kartik's serious face; although covered in bruises and cuts, it was still handsome.

"Thank you." It was all she could say properly.

Kartik quirked up an eyebrow; "You stayed just to tell me this? You could have had the message passed along."

"I wanted to tell you personally."

"Well, you could have come by another day when you had some protection. It would have been less suspicious and better planned."

"Why does my safety matter to you so much? You aren't even my chaperon anymore."

"Because-"

Silence. Kartik cut off and then sighed, running a hand through his even messier curls.

"Because?"

"Don't change the subject! Answer my question first; why did you stay? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?! Those thugs would have found out you were here and attacked everyone just to kill you! You don't know how much I've angered them by saving you!"

Kartik was angry. Gemma flinched at the realization.

"And then all of this," Kartik indicated to his bandaged and bloody torso, "would have been for nothing!"

For a moment, neither of them spoke but Kartik was breathing heavily; whether from the pain of his wound or out of rage, Gemma was unsure.

"I...I wasn't thinking straight." Gemma lowered her head, staring at her hands.

"So let me do you one last favour; take some advice from someone who is thinking straight. Go home, Gemma. Get Amar to take you."

Gemma was about to reply to his cruelty when the sound of approaching carriages was heard outside the house. Kartik was up and alert while Gemma paused and waited to hear more.

It was silent but the door had definitely opened and someone had entered the house. Gemma heard Kartik shuffling about but was too entranced with the mystery of what was happening. When she looked, she noted that Kartik was sitting up and trying to cover his exposed body with a cloak.

Before he had a chance to finish, the door swung open and Mr. Doyle stepped inside. Gemma gasped at the sight of her father. His expression softened when he spotted her but then hardened as he took in her condition.

"Gemma! Oh, Gemma! What has happened to you?!" Her father ran to her and hugged her, squeezing tightly.

Gemma saw Mr. Worthington speaking to Amar and wondered what they were saying and what Felicity's father was doing here anyways. Mr. Doyle let go of Gemma and gently stroked her messy hair, looking at her lovingly. She mustered a smile for his sake but her eyes instantly went back to Kartik, who was standing and leaning against a wooden stick. He was looking at her father with fiery eyes, a snarl coming into play. He looked menacing.

As Mr. Doyle saw where his daughter's eyes had glanced, he stood up and also averted his gaze towards Kartik, who was still looking angry.

"Kartik...I believe I am indebted to you. If it had not been for you and your brave brother, my precious Gemma would not be here right now. Everyone is speaking about your courage and bravery. As a reward, I'll grant you anything you ask for. Just name it." Mr. Doyle spoke, staring at Kartik with admiration.

"I don't want anything." Kartik spat, turning his back and trying to finish covering himself with the cloak.

"Oh, come now. I'm sure there is something you and your brother would like." Mr. Doyle probed.

"No. Nothing. I didn't do what I did expecting some kind of prize. I'm no hero, Mr. Doyle."

Amar and Mr. Worthington stepped into the room, wondering what the fuss was all about. To everyone's sudden surprise, Gemma stood up, demanding all attention.

"Mr. Kartik...I'd like you to be my chaperon. You've proved yourself and I won't have any other."

Kartik stopped moving. Then very slowly, he turned to face her. Gemma Doyle was staring at him with chilling green eyes. Her chin was tilted towards the ceiling as she looked down at him from her nose. Her expression remained unreadable and Kartik couldn't help but smile. Mr. Doyle stared from his daughter to Kartik and then back again, as if not understanding.

"Very well," Kartik started, limping forward, "I accept."

Gemma smiled victoriously but everyone else in the room still seemed out of the loop. Kartik didn't care; he was winning. Gemma Doyle was beginning to trust him. And that would be her first mistake.

* * *

**A/N: **_Okay, so I originally intended for this chapter to be longer but, yet again, I've dragged it and therefore, had to cut it off. There was so much more I wanted to have happen in this here chappie but it ended up being more of a bridge to the upcoming ones. Sorry if it seems a bit disappointing but I promise the next one will definitely rock your socks off! So much so, I may have to change the rating ;D Anyways, reviews are welcome. As always. Hope you enjoyed! :) _


	12. Bond

**The Pretender

* * *

**

**A/N: **_Sorry for the late update! I've been struggling with this chapter here a little...But it's finally done so, enjoy! Its something all you readers have been hoping for I assume. :)  
_

**WARNING: **_Naughty scene, beware kiddies! Some may find it a tad bit disturbing. If it's truly that bad, let me know and I'll change the rating. :)

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_

_Song: _Just Hold Me

_Artist: _Maria Mena

"_But if I wanted silence, I would whisper,  
and if I wanted loneliness, I'd choose to go,  
and if I liked rejection, I'd audition,  
and if I didn't love you, you would know..."_~ Maria Mena, Just Hold Me

**

* * *

Bond**

It had been months. To Kartik, they felt like centuries. Time was indeed moving but Kartik's progress only seemed to have hindered. He hadn't stolen a thing in almost an entire month and it was eating him up inside. The guards were much tougher to get by and there was an increase in security in the rich district. Not to mention, Gemma was completely oblivious to his questions. The girl was just about driving him crazy. Each time he tried bringing up her mother, she was quick to change the subject and point out something completely meaningless. Mr. Doyle was also tough to get a hold of; the man was rarely ever home. He always seemed to have some important business to take care of from dawn to dusk.

Kartik kicked a little pebble and stuffed his hands in his pockets, a scowl set permanently on his fine features. The villagers were giving him curious looks, wondering why such an angry kid was storming through the street towards the rich district. Kartik paid them no mind; he was too busy bracing himself for whatever tortures the young Ms. Doyle was planning to put him through. Sure enough, when he reached the Doyle household, he was immediately greeted by a pushy and erratic redhead.

"No, no, no! We're leaving immediately! You're already late!" She cried as she shoved him out almost as soon as he had stepped inside.

"Hey! What's with the rush?!" Kartik cried out, stumbling to catch himself before he tripped over his own two feet.

Gemma turned to look at him, green eyes wide and bewildered. She carried a sack with her and Kartik stared at it in wonder, then back at her. He quirked up a curious eyebrow; just what was she planning?

"No matter! Let's get going; we've got quite a walk!" Gemma said, continuing to push Kartik along.

This time he was able to see it coming and stood boulder still as the girl tried her hardest to push him. When her efforts were futile, he flicked her hands off of him and glared at her.

"Just what the heck do you think you're doing, Ms. Doyle?!"

"Oh, are we back to formalities again, Mr. Kartik?" Gemma snapped back, pushing a strand of loose hair from her face that had come loose from her exertion.

"I don't have time for this! No more games; where's the carriage?" Kartik questioned as he turned around and looked around for the familiar object.

When he turned back around to look at Gemma, he noted she was looking at the floor, examining her shoes. Angry, Kartik grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, taking Gemma aback and frightening her out of her wits.

"Answer me, Gemma. What are you planning?!"

Angrily, Gemma slapped Kartik's hands off of her and set to giving him a nasty look as she brushed her shoulders.

"Nothing. I just wanted to take a walk. Now, let's go. We both don't have time for this."

Kartik let out a groan of agitation but followed after the unpredictable girl in front of him nonetheless.

After a few minutes of silence and just when they were approaching the edge of the rich district, Kartik was just about fed up with being kept in the dark. Yet he said nothing until Gemma slipped into a dark alleyway, completely unnoticed by the people wandering the district. Shocked and not knowing what to do, Kartik hesitated in following her. Grumbling and muttering under his breath, Kartik slipped into the darkness after her, breaking into a run as he saw the end of her skirt vanish behind a corner. Was she trying to escape him again?

He continued to follow her but saw less and less of her as she ran; it turned out Gemma was faster than she had let on, even in dainty shoes, a tight corset and endless skirts. She was outrunning him and it was only a matter of time until Kartik lost track of her completely. Sick of the race and knowing it was hopeless, Kartik stopped running and rested on his knees, panting heavily.

"Damn her!" He cried out after a while.

Kartik slumped against the wall of the alleyway and threw back his head, closing his eyes in agitation; how the heck was he going to find her now? He thought about going around the marketplace and asking around. But the rich weren't so kind to the likes of him and would probably lie if they even answered at all.

So instead, Kartik pondered on why she'd try to escape him in the first place. Hadn't she been the one to offer him the job back in the first place? So why on earth would she continue to try and get rid of him? It made no sense at all.

And that was when he heard her.

"What are you just sitting there for?! Come on, no time to waste!"

Kartik's head shot towards her. His eyes widened in horror as he took in her new image. It took him a moment to even realize it was indeed her. Gemma Doyle was dressed in pants and a baggy top that did well to mask her blossoming bosom. Her long red hair was hidden beneath a dirty cap, only coming out across her forehead. Gemma Doyle looked like a boy. She grinned at his bewildered expression before stalking towards him.

"Let's go!" She chirped, grabbing Kartik's hand and yanking him up with a force he had not known she was capable of.

Too shocked to speak, Kartik obeyed and followed her, not exactly knowing what to say. After they came out into the burning light of the sun in the poor district, Kartik seemed to have found his voice.

"Gemma Doyle...what on earth are you doing?" He whispered so as no one else would hear, his anger still hanging evidently in the air.

"What do you think I'm doing? I just want to go for a walk!" She said as she strutted past the poor villagers hastily.

"Where are we going?" Kartik tried again; it was like talking to a wall.

"Well, why don't you lead the way? You know this place far better than I do. I want a tour, please." She stopped and turned, looking at him with deep set green eyes.

"If I lead the way, I'm leading you straight back home!" Kartik seethed through his teeth.

Gemma pouted and folded her arms across her chest, "Don't be a spoil sport! I just want to have a little fun with you."

Kartik sighed and stared at Gemma, directly into her green gaze. They stood like that for a few moments, people pushing past them and muttering curses as they blocked the way. But neither one turned away. It was Kartik who gave up the game first, running a hand through his dark curls.

"Come on, Kartik. Please?" Gemma begged, giving Kartik a desperate smile.

Kartik groaned out loud before finally coming to an agreement; "Fine!"

Gemma almost jumped for joy but deemed that inappropriate and so only smiled.

"But under one condition," Kartik started, "You are to never leave my side, got it?"

Gemma nodded in agreement hastily, excitement bubbling up inside of her. Then, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers like he always did, Kartik began walking away. Gemma rushed after him, taking in the sights and smells of the poor district with a new found appreciation.

"Would you like to go the market?" Kartik asked as they walked, not bothering to turn and look at her.

"Hmm...I think I'd rather go somewhere else; shopping isn't all a girl thinks about. Don't you know of any other places?" Gemma inquired.

Kartik snarled, "None that would be befitting for a lady."

"But I'm not a lady. Not today." Gemma indicated her outfit but Kartik didn't even glance her way.

"Where the heck did you get those rags, anyways?"

"Oh! I asked Charlie if I could have them in exchange for..." Gemma caught herself, catching Kartik's curious attention.

"In exchange for what?!" He barked.

"Cookies! He wanted cookies."

"You are a terrible liar, Ms. Doyle. Terrible."

To her surprise, Kartik was snickering. He was mocking her! She clutched her fists and glared into his broad back.

"Well, lying isn't a good thing anyways. You shouldn't brag about being good at it."

"You should be one to talk about virtues." Kartik snickered again.

Gemma kicked his shin in response before wandering in front of him. He keeled over and yelped.

"Ow! Why you..."

Gemma turned around and smiled at him cheekily. Kartik stood up and attempted to chase her down but stumbled from the sharp pain in his leg. Gemma continued to walk further and further away from his grasp.

Kartik ignored the pain and stalked after her in a power walk, grabbing her roughly by the arm and pressing his torso to her back when he caught up.

"Didn't I tell you about my condition? Any more mistakes and I'll be taking you back home to your grandmother and you can have fun explaining all this!"

"Why are you so bitter?"

It was an unexpected question. Kartik stumbled for words. It didn't help when she turned her green gaze onto him again.

"Just follow me!" Kartik finally said, not knowing what else to say.

He grabbed her hand and dragged her stumbling behind him. Kartik picked up his pace and Gemma could hardly keep up with him, tripping all the way.

"Hey! Can you slow down a little?! My legs aren't as long as yours!"

Gemma bumped headfirst into Kartik's back. He had stopped abruptly. It was then that Gemma took in their surroundings.

"Where are we?" She asked hesitantly, looking around at the vast expanse.

There wasn't much to the place; there were a few large trees growing and sparse patches of grass here and there. A pathway of rocks scattered the area and a stream could be heard in the distance. What was most impressive was the large tree that stood close to the water. It was huge! Its green bushes stretched out far enough to obscure the sun and the trunk was not like any other that Gemma has seen before. No, this tree had a trunk made of what looked like many different branches, intertwined with another.

Gemma stepped up to it, staring with wide eyes. Kartik stepped next to her, raising his head to admire the extent of the tree's branches. Gemma seemed to be doing the same thing.

"It's a banyan tree. It may look familiar. It is the tree Dakshinamurti Shiva sits under." Kartik informed Gemma.

She stalked over towards the trunk, touching the many branches of its trunk, completely fascinated by how they tangled with one another in a loving way.

"Eternal life. My father believed that the trunk of this tree represented eternal life." Kartik mused, shuffling his feet as he fought back the memories of his father underneath the same tree.

"Eternal life?" Gemma questioned, turning her gaze away from the tree long enough to see the hurt etched into Kartik's features.

Kartik broke out his reverie and wore an empty expression as he walked towards the trunk, indicating at the many different branches that made up the trunk.

"Yes," Kartik hesitated as his fingers brushed along the trunk, "Because it only ever continues to grow. He believed the trunk would always expand and grow bigger, therefore always expanding the branches until they could touch the sky."

Something marred Kartik's complacent expression; Gemma watched him with careful eyes. There was more he wanted to say and she waited patiently for him to finish his story.

"Amar never believed him; he said it was a tree and like all trees, it too would meet its end. So, every year, my father and I would measure its base and see how much it grew."

"And?" Gemma pushed, growing a little impatient.

"And it did. Amar still thought us foolish for doing this ritual but one thing he couldn't deny." Kartik smiled.

It was a genuine smile and Gemma could tell he was reminiscing a fond memory. Smiles suited his mouth, she concluded.

"What was that?"

"The figs were the juiciest!" Kartik laughed.

Gemma couldn't help but feel a little tug of a smile play at the corners of her mouth. Then, she slumped down onto the floor, resting her back onto the trunk of the tree. She relished in the shade it provided. Kartik plopped down next to her, staring off into the distance where the village pulsed with life.

"I used to love figs." Gemma broke the silence. Kartik turned to look at her.

"Used to?"

Gemma paused and then sighed, plucking a blade of grass from the ground and playing with it between her fingers.

"Yes, before my mother..." She drifted off but Kartik already knew the end of the sentence.

Was he finally going to get something out of her?

"Figs were her favourite. We always seemed to have an endless supply of them in the house. There would be hell to pay if she was going through a craving and there was none left."

Kartik smiled, making himself more comfortable; Gemma had never spoken about her mother before. He was not going to let this opportunity slip. He scooted closer to her until their shoulders brushed. Kartik hardly noticed but Gemma's attention seemed to intensify at the sudden touch.

Kartik spoke softly but he was so close that it was hard for Gemma to ignore his warm breath against her skin, "Did you buy them in mass amounts at the market? Or did you grow them yourself?"

Gemma flushed before answering, "Oh no! You see, we had them delivered to our house by this man..." Again she drifted off, as if she had said too much and it pained her to go on.

"An Indian merchant?" Kartik inquired, red blurring his vision as he recalled his dream, his nightmare.

Gemma nodded curtly, unable to say anything more. Kartik sighed and moved his hand, only to have it brush hers accidentally. Gemma jerked her hand away and Kartik wondered why she did it.

"Am I infected? You seem to flinch every time I touch you."

Gemma looked at him with wide-eyes but looked away quickly, unable to stare him in the face for too long a time. She busied herself with the grass again, plucking at it nervously as she felt a surge of heat rise to her cheeks. What was wrong with her?

"N-no! That's not it. I just...I guess I've been a tad bit shaken ever since the incident in the marketplace."

"I see."

Kartik was desperate to bring the conversation back to her family and was trying to figure out how he could do so subtly.

"I assume your father feels the same about figs now?"

Gemma laughed nervously, "Hah! My father has always hated figs. He can't stand their taste. He can't have any traces of them in his food, he's that spoiled."

"So he must have hated the sight of them too, right?" Kartik pushed, his anger resurfacing like fresh blood from an old wound.

"Well, they made my mother happy, so he always tolerated them for her."

"He didn't share that same dislike of the figs with the man who delivered them, did he?" Kartik could hardly hold back; he could care less about what Gemma thought of him at this point. Not when he was this close to discovering the truth; the same truth he'd known all along.

"I...No, no he didn't. Why would you ask that?"

Kartik fought back the urge to yell at her and instead forced back his facade. He smiled and laughed before adding, "It just happens sometimes. People associate things they hate with the people in direct contact with them."

"That has as much plausibility as my father hating my mother for eating them! My father did not hate anyone simply because he can't eat figs. Kartik, where did you even get that from?"

Kartik stood up, still smiling, "Forget it, it was just a curious question. I think we should head back now, anyways."

"What?! So early? We only just got here!" Gemma argued, standing up behind Kartik as he walked on.

"It's almost sundown. Your grandmother is going to kill me, especially if this was just supposed to be a walk. Now get dressed and let's go."

"I don't want to go yet! A few more minutes, please?"

Kartik sighed before turning on Gemma, "Listen, I let you get away with a lot today. So don't give me a hard time if I set some restrictions."

"But...But I want to stay. Just a little longer. It's so peaceful here." Gemma gazed at her surroundings once more, taking in all of its vast beauty.

Kartik sighed. "Only a few more minutes. And then we leave when I say we leave. It's not like your grandmother hasn't already prepared a death sentence for me anyways. At least this way, I get to avoid it a little longer." Kartik muttered, standing with his back against the tree, enjoying a light breeze that swept up his hair.

Gemma sat down again, eyes closed and letting the cap fall away, letting her long red-gold tresses escape their confines. They flew with the wind and her scent as well. It carried it to Kartik and he took it in calmly. Today he'd made some progress but nowhere near enough. At least it was something.

"Kartik...?"

"Mm?"

"Why'd you bring me here?"

Gemma stood up and joined him, still not looking at him as she attempted to brush back a persistent strand of hair to no avail. Kartik didn't respond; he didn't really know how to and Gemma was super curious for an answer.

"I like this place. I like this tree. My mind is instantly cleared and I feel a sense of peace. I guess I came here more for myself than for your pleasure."

"Well, that's terrible!" Gemma huffed.

"What?" Kartik looked at her with a look of confusion.

Gemma glared before giving him her back. Kartik stared on at her, still not understanding the feisty redhead before him at all.

"You were supposed to be pleasing me! And instead, you've been selfish!"

"What the heck are you talking about?! You like this place just as much as I do!"

"Yes, but that wasn't your intention! I am most displeased with you right now."

Kartik fumed, "This is what I get for granting you a few more minutes?! Why, you ungrateful brat!"

Gemma turned on him, her mouth wide open in shock, "How dare you?! I was just teasing you! Kartik, you can be so cold and heartless."

"That's it, I'm leaving! We're leaving, right now. You don't deserve this."

"Hey, wait! I still have to change!"

"Then change!"

"You have to wait for me and keep watch for any peeping toms."

Kartik rolled his eyes, "Alright, already! Just change."

With that, Gemma disappeared behind the tree and Kartik heard a rustling of clothing. He stood on the opposite side and waited, scanning the empty land with bored eyes. The girl was going to give him high blood pressure and possibly a heart attack someday. She knew how to get him worked up.

Then he heard Gemma scream. It was a cry that pierced the silence and drove away birds that were hovering around nearby in their nests. Kartik was quick; he made his way to the opposite side of the tree and examined Gemma.

"What happened?!"

Gemma stared at him, wide-eyed and horrified from the ground as he took in all of her nudity. A moment of silence passed between them but Gemma was quick to snatch at the clothes lying about her, covering up most of her naked body. Kartik turned around and scratched the back of his head nervously. His eyes shifted uncomfortably back and forth as he tried to get his mind off of what he saw. It wasn't working too well; the blood had already gone from his brain to a different region entirely.

When he didn't hear Gemma move, Kartik got a little worried and said, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Her answer was quick and sharp. Kartik had no doubt that she was humiliated. Like it hadn't been enough that he had taken her virtue; she now had to relive that fact.

"I'm...sorry."

"It's fine. I tripped is all."

Silence. A very strange silence as the wind rustled the leaves of the tree overhead. The sun began casting an orange glow about the place.

"Are you decent?" Kartik squeaked, feeling a tad bit uncomfortable.

"...Yes."

Kartik turned around slowly only to discover that Gemma was standing right behind him as naked as she was the day she was born. His eyes widened and he was just about to turn around again when she caught his jaw in her hand. She stepped closer to him and Kartik's heart picked up its pace. Her face was flushed and her long hair hung in loose ringlets down her back, like blood in the orange glow of the sun.

When she was close enough for Kartik to feel the slight push of her breasts against his chest and her thighs pressed against his own, Kartik understood everything. He brushed away her hair from her face and found himself leaning in for a kiss.

Her eyes closed in response and her lips parted, inviting him. His nose brushed hers and when his lips hovered over her own, he paused, killing her with his sweet warm breath. She leaned upwards, hands holding on to his strong arms, until their lips met. Softly at first, going slow and gentle. But the hunger was consuming and what was once passionate became desperate. When Kartik pulled away, Gemma almost whimpered at the loss of contact.

Instead, he removed his shirt and spread it on the grass underneath the tree. Then he carefully lay her down on it, following after her. He propped himself on his elbows, staring down at her underneath him, red hair sprawled out and green eyes nervous with anticipation. Her body betrayed her eyes; she arched her back and wrapped her legs around his narrow hips, bringing him down on top of her. His skin on hers, he began planting hot kisses all over her; her lips, her neck, that soft spot beneath her ear. She responded by digging her hands into his hair and arching closer to his body.

The kisses tormented both of them but Gemma would be sure that this time, she would remember every detail. She could feel that wanting deep in her belly, asking for more, consuming her and Kartik seemed to feed right into it. His mouth ventured lower, discovering more of her and sending her head spinning. Her fingers caressed his neck and back as she begged for a release from his torment. When he gave it to her, she let out a soft moan and clambered on top of him, removing the rest of his clothes.

Kartik groaned underneath her but was quick to start up a rhythm of which Gemma was happy to join in. Together, they reached an end and when they finished, both laid together panting, chests heaving and sweat still slick on their flushed skin.

Kartik drew symbols on Gemma's bare back with gentle fingers, sending goosebumps all over her. Gemma placed tender kisses on his neck and his chest until she leaned forward and met his soft lips.

"We need to go." Kartik said after breaking apart.

His hands held her arms firmly and pushed her up, following after her. He pulled on his clothing hastily, Gemma watching with careful eyes.

When he had his trousers back on, he looked at her naked form still lying on his shirt and said, "Come on, Gemma. We can't stay."

She nodded and stood up, digging around for her clothes in the grass. When both of them had finished reassembling themselves, Kartik moved on to the open field towards the village with Gemma not far behind.

That was when he saw him; two figures coming towards them. Kartik stopped, alert and senses sharper than before. Gemma stood next to him, staring at him curiously, "What is it?"

When Kartik didn't respond but only glared in their direction, Gemma followed his gaze and almost jumped out of her skin.

Kartik could tell Amar was one of them, his walk obvious. But the man next to him was a mystery. He had a scar on his eye and he was definitely English. If Amar was surprised at all, he did not let it show on his features.

"Kartik. I'm glad you're here. I was looking for you. There's someone I wanted to introduce to you. The man I said who would help..." Amar eyed Gemma before continuing, "help you with what we discussed." He finished.

Kartik eyed the man suspiciously; he was balding and looked on at Kartik with a curious smile. A wind blew and it rustled Kartik's hair, raising gooseflesh all over him. Gemma clutched Kartik's arm tightly in response as the man looked at her with beady eyes.

"You may call me Fowlson."

* * *

**A/N: **_:O A cliffy! I'm horrible, aren't I? I wanted Fowlson in this from the beginning and I'm glad I finally got him in which is good but also means that the story is passing the halfway mark! Noooo! Nearing the ending folks...soon, all will be answered. Prepared for the shocking truth? Enjoy the fluff while it lasts cause it may just be the last. Till next time! _


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